


don't read the last page

by ahtohallan_calling



Category: Frozen (Disney Movies)
Genre: Drama, F/M, Fluff, Modern AU, actress!anna, lil dose of some angst, vaguely inspired by the half of notting hill i watched on a plane
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-08
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:47:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 27
Words: 84,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22178041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ahtohallan_calling/pseuds/ahtohallan_calling
Summary: Sparks fly when Kristoff and Anna run into each other again in LA years after being best friends in high school. He's in veterinary school; she's a struggling actress; everything's going great until suddenly she lands the biggest role of her life-- and Kristoff can't help but wonder if there's still room for him in it, too.
Relationships: Anna/Kristoff (Disney)
Comments: 435
Kudos: 238





	1. takeout

**Author's Note:**

> so once upon a time i had an idea for a drabble prompt and now suddenly i'm doing yet another multichap LOL WHOOPS
> 
> this one will probably get updated slower than litot did but i'll still try and update regularly :)
> 
> if you want a sneak peek of what's to come look for the drabble on my blog :)
> 
> shoutout to sancallisto who sent me the prompt in the first place LOL
> 
> and ps: title is definitely from "new years day" by taylor swift which always gets me in my feelings

“Oh,” he said, blinking in surprise. “You’re that Anna. Hello.”

She heaved out an exasperated sigh. “Goddammit. I thought the hat would be enough. Do you want my autograph or a selfie? Please say autograph, I have this seriously _ massive _ pimple coming up.”

He blinked again. “I was just going to ask how you’ve been doing--”

“Oh,  _ god _ , you’re one of  _ those _ , aren’t you--”

“Since high school,” he finished. “When you sat by me in bio class freshman year and I helped you, and then tenth grade when you sat by me in lit and helped  _ me _ , and then junior year when neither of us had a date to prom so--”

Her eyes went wide.

“Well-- anyway. You are that Anna, right? I mean, you’ve got the Buchanan High hat on and everything.”

“Oh. Oh my god.  _ Kristoff _ ?”

“Yeah. Here’s your coffee, by the way.”

* * *

She came back that afternoon.

“That Anna again. Hello.”

“Hi, look, I just wanted to say sorry again about this morning when I didn’t recognize you and just assumed you were being, you know, a creep or a fan or something, it’s not that I don’t  _ remember _ you, it’s just that you’re a lot  _ wider _ than you were back then, like in a  _ good _ way, and so I didn’t realize at first but now I do and I’m just  _ really really  _ sorry, and I want to make it up to you so. Um. How can I do that?”

“Did you actually want this latte or not?”

“Oh, god, yes, I’ve got an insanely long script to memorize just for this one stupid audition so I expect I’ll be up all night.”

“Okay. I was worried you thought you needed to order something else to talk to me.”

“....did I?”

“No.”

She bit her lip, the same way she always had. “Really? Even though I was being kind of a bitch?”

“I saw your commercial when I went out for my break and walked past the Best Buy. Don’t blame you for being on your guard.”

She wrinkled her nose. “ _ I’m Anna, and trust me, these tampons changed my life. Now I can play tennis and do cartwheels on the beach all day long. Here, let me do a flip right now so you can see the string dangling out and everything and how happy I am about all that!” _

“I don’t think that’s how it went, exactly.”

“Well-- close enough.”

“Everyone will forget about it in a week. Someone will trip at an awards show or catch their cat speaking Japanese or something, and the world’ll move right on along.”

“God, I hope so. But really-- let me make it up to you.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to.”

“I really did just want to know how you’re doing these days.”

“Well, I want to know about how you’re doing. Let’s get dinner or something, yeah?”

“I thought you had lines to rehearse.”

She waved a hand. “It’s fine. I’ll do that after dinner.”

“I get off in ten minutes. We can get takeout and catch up at my apartment. Or yours, if you’d rather sit somewhere besides a ratty sofa. And I’ll help you run lines.”

She bit her lip again, and he tried not to stare. “Seriously?”

“Yeah. It’ll be just like high school, when we had to do that scene from  _ Much Ado About Nothing _ in English class, and you helped me get through all the weird words. Except this time I’ll do the helping. At least I hope I will.”

She laughed. “I can’t believe you’re even sweeter than I remembered.”

Another customer came in, and he shrugged as he reached for an empty paper cup. “You’re even prettier.”

She was blushing as she walked away and sat at an empty table.

* * *

“So you finally settled on what you wanted to be.”

“Yeah.” 

They were on the floor because the springs in his couch had been weak even before going through three owners, and when they’d first sat down with Chinese takeout boxes in hand they’d nearly fallen straight through. At least the coffee table he’d gotten off Craigslist was the perfect height for a five-star floor dining experience. 

“How’d you decide?” Anna asked, slurping up a long noodle. 

A bit of sauce flicked off the end and landed on her chin. Kristoff leaned over and brushed it away with his thumb. She blushed, and he smiled; he was getting sort of fond of that shade of pink.

“I always liked animals. And science was my best class. So I took some classes in undergrad, did good enough there, applied to veterinary school, and now here I am.”

“How much time do you have left?”

“God, you make it sound like I’m dying or something.”

She elbowed him affectionately. “You’re just dramatic.”

“Year and a half. Almost there.”

“That’s amazing, seriously. Imagine if Ms. Carlton could see you now.”

“She has. I went home for Christmas and ran into her in Target. She asked if I still remembered the Krebs cycle, and I said, ‘well, ma’am, I sure hope so’, and then my mom made me actually explain to her what I was doing with my life.”

Anna snorted. “Is she still teaching?”

“Nah, retired last year. Surprised she didn’t quit right after she got done with having you in class.”

“ _ Me _ ? Oh, come on, I wasn’t  _ that _ bad.”

“You faked fainting so well on dissection day that someone else fainted, too.”

“Well, it turned out well enough for me, at least. Maybe they’ll ask me to be in a Life Alert commercial next or something. I’m still very good at falling. Want to see?”

She set her carton aside and stood up before he could even respond. “Watch this!”

Her hands flew to her side, and she let out a moan. “ _ Oh, mon dieu _ ...I ‘ave been shot, cherie, au revoir….adieu…”

She stumbled forward, then back, then forward again, and then fell all at once, so easily that for a moment he really was scared. He scooted forward a little so he could get a better look at her face. Her jaw was slack, a strand of hair falling limply over her eyes and dangling into her open mouth. He moved it aside, his hand gentle against her freckled skin.

She blinked and turned to look up at him, her eyes bright. “Was that good?”

“Very.”

She sat up, putting one hand on the floor and turning slightly so they were face to face. “Remember when you danced with me at prom?”

“The last dance, because that was how long it took me to get up the courage to ask you?”

She nodded slowly, her eyes watching something deep inside him. He watched back, wondering what she saw. “Even though we’d both showed up alone, and we talked to each other every day, and you always ate lunch with me and shared your apple slices even though the rest of the hockey team saved a spot for you.”

She leaned closer, just barely, and the tip of her nose brushed against his. “Why were you so nervous, Kris?”

“Because you were a pretty girl, and I was me.”

“And what about now?”

“Well. Some things never change.”

Her lips brushed over his, just barely, but he held still, just in case it was a mistake. He felt her mouth curve into a smile. “You don’t have to be so shy this time. You can kiss me back if you want to.”

“Are you sure?”

“I wanted you to kiss me at prom.”

“I thought you were just leaning on me that much because your shoes hurt.”

“Silly boy,” she whispered, leaning so close that her lips moved over his as she spoke and then he did kiss her like he wished he had seven years ago except maybe it was for the best that he hadn’t til now because really, this was more than worth the wait.

  
  
  



	2. pickup

Anna sat back far sooner than she wanted to; she could have gone on kissing him like this for hours, but that was a capital B capital I Bad Idea. And so she pulled regretfully away with the dainty little laugh she'd perfected in undergrad, not in acting classes but backstage when the guys playing opposite her sometimes got the wrong idea.

"But it feels so  _ real _ when I'm up there with you," they'd plead, and she'd do the little laugh and say "God, I should hope so, considering how expensive tuition is here. Good to hear my investment is paying off.”

Kristoff didn't seem as thrown off by the laugh as the others had been; he just leaned back a little and raised his eyebrows. She'd forgotten how he had a funny way of looking at a person that made you want to just open right up and spill it all out.

But she wasn't quite sure what she wanted to spill right now, and so she went the opposite direction, closing off even further. "Well, now that we've gotten that out of the way, we can stop wondering about the past and focus on the here and now. Specifically, whether you want that last spring roll or not."

There was a wounded look in the depths of his dark eyes. Good; better now than later. He gave her a familiar crooked smile anyway. "You already ate the other two."

"So you're saying you want it?"

"I'm saying I always liked egg rolls better, but I knew these used to be your favorite, so that's why I got them."

For a moment she wavered, caught between what she wanted and what she knew she should do, but his eyes stayed steady on hers all the same, still that faint hurt hiding in them. It would be awfully easy to fall in love with those eyes.

She moved away, scooting to sit beside him again where he leaned up against the couch. “So,” she said, reaching for the last spring roll and taking a messy bite, “still up to help me run lines?”

Kristoff nodded. “‘Course. Can’t say I’ll be up to par, though, I haven’t acted since our American Lit days.”

“Oh my god, I forgot you were John Proctor! ‘ _ You’re tearing down heaven and raising up a whore’ _ \-- and everyone freaked out because they thought Mr. Martin would be  _ pissed _ you didn’t leave out the cuss word but he was just like…”

She waved her hands emphatically, trying to come up with the right word. “Like...you know. You remember. He thought it was awesome, is what I mean.”

“Honestly, I don’t. I was so embarrassed I was just trying not to pass out.”

She remembered that, the way he’d turned scarlet all the way to the tips of his ears, and she wanted to kiss him again, at least on the cheek to see if she could make him blush like that again, but instead she popped the rest of the spring roll into her mouth and wiped her hands on her jeans and said around a mouthful of cabbage, “Okay, let me get this script.”

Her bag was kicked halfway under the table; she yanked it out, sending loose papers and pens rolling everywhere. “Ah-- shit, sorry.”

He scooped up the pens and handed them to her in a neat bundle while she shuffled through the papers. “God, you’d think they’d do me a favor one of these days and  _ staple _ these things...anyway, okay, here’s the right order.”

Anna patted the edges neatly into place and presented the script to him. “Don’t let me peek at it, even if I beg. Oh-- and don’t tell anyone about it, either, because I don’t remember or not if I had to sign an NDA or not this time around, and I’d rather not risk it.”

He took the stack of papers with a raised eyebrow. “Okay. So who am I playing?”

“I’m a princess of some country they made up in Europe, and you’re the American journalist trying to kickstart his career assigned to cover me at the start of my...debutante something or other. Basically, I’m supposed to get married off to a prince or something, but then you come along and run into me by mistake outside the palace, and you’re super funny and down-to-earth and it’s this forbidden romance and blah blah blah, at the end I pick you but because for some reason it’s a Christmas movie I still keep the crown, too, and then you kiss me under the mistletoe and voila, roll credits. Oh, and you’re supposed to be from Georgia, so try and do that accent if you can.”

He screwed up his face, trying to-- well, honestly she didn’t know what he was doing. “Y’all--”

“Oh, god,  _ please _ stop,” she said, putting a hand over his mouth with a dramatic shudder. His breath was warm against her palm as he chuckled. He was making it  _ really _ hard to do the right thing, which was especially disconcerting considering he wasn’t even trying. 

She fought the urge to stroke her thumb gently against his jaw and instead pulled her hand away. “Just read it like your normal self.”

“Do you want me to try and like...act?”

“Um...if you want to, yeah. Mainly I’m worried about memorizing this. But that’d probably help, so...go for it. Unless it’s weird, in which case--”

“You don’t look like you’re from around here,” he said, and it took her a beat to realize he was reading.

She cleared her throat and straightened her shoulders, slipping into the posh British accent they always wanted you to do for these parts even when the movie was set somewhere vaguely north of Switzerland. “Neither do you.”

“What gave it away? The accent or the cowboy boots?”

Kristoff glanced up from the script, looking vaguely nauseated. “Are people really going to watch this?”

“Tragically, yes, because it’s another Netflix thing, and it’ll get all hyped up whether it really deserves it or not.”

“Jesus,” he muttered. “This is why I stick to my DVD player.”

“You do  _ not _ .”

He just raised an eyebrow, and she gasped. “ _ Kristoff Bjorgman _ . You are not  _ seriously _ telling me that in  _ two thousand nineteen _ you still don’t have a Netflix subscription.”

“I think my roommate does.”

“Well, that basically counts as yours, then.”

“Why?”

“Well, you know, all the password-sharing and--”

She trailed off. By the look in his eyes, he actually didn’t know. “Well-- never mind. Say your line again so I can do mine.”

“What gave it away? The accent or the cowboy boots?”

“Neither.”

“Then what was it?”

She held the silence for a beat, staring deeply into his eyes, practicing her best  _ you-mean-you-really-don’t-recognize-me _ face? He returned the gaze with an astonishingly good  _ what-is-this-girl-up-to-and-why-am-I-already-into-her _ face, and either he’d gotten much better at acting in the last few years, or she really shouldn’t have kissed him even that one time, because there was no way that for either of them it would mean--

“Nothing,” she breathed, the line suddenly jolting its way out of her mouth. “I’m just good at reading people.”

They went back and forth through the script, and to her surprise, he didn’t give in even once when she begged him to let her peek at the lines, even when she tried to bribe him with the last dumpling. “No, Anna, you know this,” he’d said calmly, and then suddenly she  _ had _ , and they’d gone right along. 

The dialogue was still edging dangerously close to falling straight off a cliff into too-cringy-for-Hallmark territory, but somehow when she was reading it with him, it seemed almost--  _ almost _ \-- plausible.

Except for that bit about the cowboy boots. That was unforgivable. 

She took a sip of Pepsi and flopped back against the sofa, glad she didn’t have to keep looking at him anymore. Not that there was a problem with the view; it was a nice one, if she was being honest, maybe even a  _ very _ nice one, but that little bit of sadness still hadn’t melted entirely away, and she knew she wouldn’t forgive herself for putting it there for a long time. 

_ It’s for the best _ , she reminded herself fiercely.  _ You know you’re a mess. Don’t need to drag him into it just for old times’ sake.  _

Beside her, Kristoff let out a yawn. “Oh, shit, sorry--” she said, suddenly scrambling upright, “didn’t mean to keep you up late or--”

“No, no, you’re good, it‘s only eight. I just was working a double today, got up earlier than normal.”

She bit her lip. He hadn’t made mention of that when he’d volunteered to let her come over and read lines. “I-- well. Thanks, Kristoff, so much. For your help and for letting me hang out here for a while. Let me help you clean up and then I’ll head out.”

She hopped to her feet, already collecting discarded chopsticks and napkins, trying to ignore the frown on Kristoff’s face. “Seriously, Kris, you’re a lifesaver. The audition is tomorrow, and I did my best to prepare but honestly, I just had to do a stupid radio interview about the tampon commercial so I could get an easy paycheck because I owe my sister  _ way _ too much money right now so that’s what I was worried about yesterday and then before that, I was looking at other auditions online too because I feel like my agent just  _ has _ to be hiding some from me but then hey it was today and the audition’s tomorrow and so I was screwed if I didn’t get help and--”

“Anna.”

She froze.

He got to his feet slowly; she let her eyes trail up his broad frame, taking in every inch of

him. Had he hit  _ another _ growth spurt in college? 

He held out his hand, and for an absurd moment she thought he meant for her to take it, but then he plucked some of the garbage out of her grasp and led her towards the kitchen, pressing the garbage can open with his foot. “I know it’s been a while,” he said, his voice soft but somehow insistent, “but we’re still friends. I’m happy to help you however I can.”

Anna swallowed hard and forced herself to look away at the decidedly less attractive sight of a half-eaten fortune cookie tumbling into the garbage. “Well-- thanks.”

He nodded, and now that her hands were empty it was  _ so _ tempting to just grab him by the collar and pull him down into another kiss, reality be damned. So she was a complete mess and he had his life together and she was  _ terrible _ at relationships and he was probably, like, _ amazing _ \-- what could it hurt, one more kiss?

But she’d only just run into him again, and she shouldn’t have lost contact with him in the first place, and she really didn’t want to lose him again.  _ You only get so many friends willing to share their apple slices with you every day even though apples are their favorite and you take more than your fair share of the peanut butter _ , she thought morosely.  _ Can’t just waste someone like that. _

She brushed past him and swept the script into her bag, tugging it back on over her shoulders and turning to him with a practiced smile. He hadn’t moved; just let his gaze follow her. “Well, guess I’d better be getting home, then.”

“Need a ride?”

Shit-- she’d forgotten he’d driven her over here right after he’d gotten off work, and the metro line she needed had no stops near here, so it’d be at least an hour getting home, and she didn’t really have money for a taxi but if she got in a car with him again, there would  _ definitely _ be more kissing, and she just really,  _ really  _ couldn’t do that to him.

“I’m good, thanks! I’ll just get an Uber or something.”

He nodded. “Night, then. Good catching up with you.”

“You, too. Thanks again.”

Her heart was pounding as she slipped out the door. She found herself waiting for some idiotic reason to hear the deadbolt click shut and his footsteps walk away until they faded into silence. God, this was  _ pathetic _ , even for her. She’d always been awful about jumping into things head first, especially when it came to men, and that had never once  _ actually _ worked out for her. Which was how she’d ended up majoring in theatre and not even doing any education classes alongside it, and moving into her sister’s place just because it was in LA even though she couldn’t afford her share of the rent, and dating a string of guys who were too into pop-up shops or vaping or Soundcloud rap or whatever the big thing was at the moment, and now, apparently, kissing her high school best friend who definitely deserved better than whatever she was right now.

She made her way down the stairs, dialing her sister’s number already. She picked up on the second ring, just like always.

“Anna? Hey, what is it?”

“Can you pick me up?”

“What’s wrong?”

That was what did her in. She found a bush by the sidewalk and crouched down behind it, feeling the tears already start to stream down her face. “Can you-- can you just come pick me up, please?”

One of the perks of having a big sister who actually had her shit together was free pickup and dropoff service all around the city, though unlike an Uber, the rides didn’t come with no questions asked.

“What are you doing all the way over here?” Elsa asked as Anna clambered into the car, still sniffling pitifully. “I thought you were just going to go study your lines at that coffee shop and then go to the grocery.”

“I was, but then I, um…I ran into Kristoff.”

Elsa frowned. “Should I know who that-- oh my _ god, _ Kristoff from  _ high school _ ? The one that you had a crush on for like…”

“Years, I know,” Anna said balefully. “God, I probably still have notebooks in storage full of Mrs. Bjorgman signatures.”

“What’s he doing here?”

“He’s a barista.”

“Isn’t everyone?”

She laughed a little at that, and some of the tension went out of Elsa’s shoulders. “Okay, fair. But he’s in vet school, too.”

“Oh, wow, impressive.”

“I know. Just imagine me trying to go back home for a visit now, they’ll all ask questions about you two and I’ll be like ‘ _ oh, Elsa’s this super successful SLP and Kristoff’s gonna be a vet’ _ and then they’ll ask what I’m up to and I’ll have to say ‘doing cartwheels in a commercial where they taped some string to my shorts so it looks like my tampon’s hanging out because that’s supposed to be cute and quirky’ and then they’ll say ‘ _ oh my god I think I saw a GIF of that _ ’ and then I’ll have to go dig myself a hole and die in it.”

Elsa just rolled her eyes. She was used to these dramatic tirades. “Anna, you’re twenty-four. You’re not supposed to have your shit together yet.”

“You did.”

“I let you think I did,” her sister said in that infuriating older-and-wiser voice she’d perfected way back in middle school. “I’m serious, you’ll be okay. And whatever happened with Kristoff--”

“God, don’t say his name, please, or I’ll just get all worked up again, and I’ve already gotten mascara  _ everywhere _ .”

Elsa sighed. “Okay, fine, we’ll save that part of this discussion for when we’re home with pints of Ben and Jerry’s. But just...I want you to know that you’re okay, Anna. More than okay. And you’re going to knock it out of the park with this audition tomorrow. I mean it.”

Anna looked away, rolling down the window and sticking her hand out so she could feel the wind smacking against it, turning her wrist so it could hiss between her fingers. Movies made it seem so much easier to have these moments with someone, to open up and cry it out and get an easy resolution. But this was her life, whether she liked it or not, and she had to put up with it anyhow. “Thanks.”

“That’s what I’m here for.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol sorry


	3. no onions

“It smells like fried rice in here. Kris, I swear to god you better not have ordered Chinese food without me again because--”

Kristoff didn’t bother to look up from his hands even when Sven abruptly stopped talking. He’d been sitting on the sofa, unmoving, face buried in his palms ever since Anna had left trying to figure out what the hell he’d done wrong.

“There’s still some left if you want it,” he mumbled.

A low whistle came from across the room. “I mean, gonna be real with you, I do, but _shit_ , man, what happened? Is it something with work?”

“No.”

“School?”

“No.”

“Family?”

“No.”

“Dick dry up and fall off?”

“Remind me again why I still live with you.”

“Because no one else will put up with the weird shit you sing in the shower.”

“Ah, right, that was it,” he muttered as Sven sat down beside him and they both sank a little deeper into the bowels of the world’s least valuable sofa.

“Seriously, though,” Sven asked around a mouthful of rice, “what happened?”

“I, um, ran into someone.”

“Like a _girl_ someone?”

“Um. Yeah.”

“And?”

There was no use hiding it. Sven would drag it out of him someday, and anyway, despite being kind of the worst sometimes, he was also the best friend Kristoff had had since-- well, since Anna-- and sometimes, he even managed to give pretty decent advice.

“Well, uh, it was Anna.”

“No fucking way. _The_ Anna you like, drove all the way home to see that one weekend freshman year and then you got there and saw her with her boyfriend and you were like ‘oh, sh--”

“Yes, _that_ Anna.”

His voice came out sounding tighter than he meant it to, and suddenly the teasing note in Sven’s voice was gone. “Shit. What happened?”

He explained his whole insane day from the beginning, and for once Sven was quiet through the whole thing, except when he called a quick time-out to look up the tampon commercial and confirm that Kristoff really wasn’t kidding about that. He’d thought that maybe getting the whole story out would make him feel better, but it somehow made it all worse to see Sven looking as confused as he did. Kristoff groaned and headed into the kitchen for a beer; he _really_ needed one right now.

Sven followed behind him, still trying to puzzle his way through the story. “So like, to be clear, she was _definitely_ the one who initiated the kissing?”

“Um. Considering she told me I could kiss her back, yeah.”

“Wait, you didn’t immediately just--”

“I don’t know! She’s so…so…” He threw his hands up in frustration. “God. She’s just Anna, and she’s always _been_ Anna, and I’ve always been me, and it’s like...why the hell would someone like her even look at me twice? I mean, it was like she walked into the store, and I just immediately was right back to where I was freshman year, just like…”

He couldn’t come up with the words and took a swig of beer instead. Sven patted his shoulder sympathetically. “I’m sorry, man. It doesn’t make sense to me, either. Had to’ve been something else going on. Or maybe she thought you weren’t into her.”

“Thanks, but it probably is just…” He waved a hand, feeling futile. “Probably just that she really was just curious and that was all.”

“I’m gonna be honest, from what you’ve told me about her, I don’t think that’s it. Didn’t you say she used to skip school when you were sick and bring over soup and DVDs?”

“I mean, yeah, but...I don’t know. She didn’t like school that much.”

“I don’t think someone who does that shit would do _this_ shit. Not without a reason, anyway.”

“A lot can change after high school.”

“You’re telling me,” Sven mumbled, opening a beer of his own. “You seen my hairline lately?”

In spite of himself, Kristoff let out a snort of laughter. So maybe tonight hadn’t gone where he’d been hoping, but hey-- he’d lived the last seven years without Anna. He’d get used to it again.

* * *

He’d spent so much time over the last week hoping she’d come back in that when she actually did, he blinked several times before realizing she wasn’t going to fade away. She was looking at him as she walked up to the counter, but the moment their eyes met her gaze flew away so she could stare a little bit too hard at the menu.

Two could play at that game; he started wiping down the counters even though he’d just done that five minutes ago and no one had come in since. He watched her from the corner of his eye, wondering why, exactly, she’d come all the way back over here when she’d said she lived nearly on the other side of the city.

“A mocha, please, with cinnamon syrup,” she ordered, sounding almost timid. 

“Do you want whip?”

“Yes, please. To go.”

She handed the cashier a twenty and stuffed a five in the tip jar when she got her change, and then ever so slowly she drifted down to his end of the counter. He kept his eyes on the coffee as he started to make her drink, but he still said quietly, “I’m serious, you really don’t have to order a drink to talk to me.”

“I’m sorry,” she said in a small voice.

This time he did look up at her. Her eyes were downcast as she leaned against the counter, drumming her fingers against it. “For what?” he asked, starting to steam the milk.

“For, um...the other night.”

“It’s okay, seriously, if you’re not interested it’s--”

“It’s not that, Kristoff,” she said, and finally she looked up at him, and his heart broke a little when he realized she looked somehow afraid.

“Tell me, Anna.”

She chewed on her bottom lip. “I just. Um. I don’t know if you really want to hear the whole thing. Kind of a ‘do you want the long version or the longer version’ thing. But, um...sorry, again. And thank you. I got a callback.”

Kristoff nearly dropped her cup. “I-- hang on, let me finish this and then-- just hang on.”

He finished making her coffee and set it on the counter before picking up the whipped cream canister. “Tell me when.”

Her mouth quirked up in the barest hint of a smile, and he couldn’t help but feel relieved; that had been one of their dozens of stupid inside jokes back in the day, that when one of them had a bad day and needed to just pile up in front of a movie with snacks, he’d always go for Pringles, and she’d want a massive ice cream sundae with so much whipped cream you couldn’t even see the ice cream part.

She waited until there were a solid two inches of whipped cream before saying, “When,” and he slid the cup over to her with a little smile of his own.

“Okay. You were saying? About the part, I mean.”

“I, um...the audition went really well. And so I got a callback, and that went well too, and so I wanted to come and thank you because I seriously couldn’t have done it without you. I mean, actually, I wanted to call you, but I didn’t know if your number had changed or not, and I don’t think you ever got on Facebook or Twitter or anything so I couldn’t get a hold of you there and--”

The bell over the door jangled, and he glanced up to see a group of women coming in wearing yoga pants and chatting animatedly about the new tea flavors. “Anna-- sorry, I just--”

“Oh, no, no, I’m the one who’s sorry, I’ll just get out of your way, just--”

“No, not that, just-- I have to do this but I get off in half an hour so just--”

Her eyes looked suddenly hopeful, and there was that old familiar pang in his chest. “Just-- wait here, okay? And you can tell me the long version of everything.”

Already paper cups were sliding his way, but he kept his eyes locked on hers until she nodded and sat down at a nearby table. The rest of his shift flew by in a rush of skinny lattes and double-caramel frapps, but through it all he kept glancing up at Anna. Most of the time she was tapping on her phone or fidgeting with her hair or picking at her nails, but whenever their eyes met, he would give her another tiny smile and get one in return.

And then, finally, he was done and slid into the chair across from her. “Do you wanna do this here? Or we can go to my apartment again if you want, my roommate won’t be home for a while. Or we can go to yours if you’d rather.”

Anna’s finger tapping sped up. “Um, my sister’s probably home by now, and she’d probably listen in, so--”

“My place it is, then,” he said, and his stomach growled loudly. He winced. “Um, we can do takeout again if you want, or you don’t have to stay long enough to eat, but I’m kind of starving so--”

“We can do pizza,” she said quickly. “My treat.”

“You don’t have to, seriously--”

“I want to.”

Her fingers were still drumming insistently on the table. Without really thinking, Kristoff reached over and cupped her hands between his own, stilling them. He heard her suck in a breath.

“Anna,” he said, looking steadily at her. “I promise, whatever it is you have to say to me, it’s going to be okay.”

“That’s a big promise.”

“I mean it.”

“You can change your mind,” she said softly. “If you decide it isn’t okay. I know I fucked up.”

“Just-- let’s actually talk first before you start worrying about what I’ll think, okay? One thing at a time.”

For some reason, her eyes started to fill with tears, and he hastily got to his feet, which only seemed to make it worse. “I-- okay, I don’t know what I said, but-- c’mon, I’m parked out back.” 

He took her hand again, more on instinct than anything, and led her through a side door out to his beat-up old sedan. He opened the door for her, and she managed a sniffly “thank you” as she buckled up. 

“You can put on the radio if you want,” he said as he pulled out. “Or the aux cord is somewhere in here, remember how we used to argue over who got control of it? Because you’d always want to play show tunes, and I’d want to play Green Day or something?”

He glanced over to see Anna swiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. “And then we found out that they’d made that musical based on their songs, and all we listened to was that cast recording for like a month before we finally admitted that neither of us actually liked it that much.”

“Yeah. But we pretended all that time anyway because we didn’t want to let the other person down.”

She was quiet for a long time after that, until just after he turned onto his street. “Why didn’t we do a better job of keeping in touch with each other, Kris?”

It was his turn to be silent. He knew the answer, but that didn’t make it any easier to say. He parked the car, turned it off, unfastened his seatbelt; still, neither of them made a move to get out of the car. He turned to meet her gaze. She wasn’t crying anymore, but her eyes were still puffy. Her hair was thrown up in a loose bun; she was in an oversized t-shirt and leggings, and still she was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen.

“I don’t know,” he lied, finally opening his door. “I guess it just happens sometimes.”

She followed him silently into the building, tapping on her phone as they got into the elevator. “You still like veggie, right?”

“What?” he asked; all of his focus had been on the way her eyes still looked red and whether she’d let him give her a cold washcloth or something because _Jesus_ , that was killing him.

“Pizza.”

“Oh-- yeah. But no--”

“Onions, I remember. Me too.”

They were quiet again until the door to his apartment shut behind them. Kristoff cleared his throat. “Um-- unfortunately nothing’s changed in the last week, so the floor’s kind of still our best option.”

“That’s fine. I feel floors are usually the best for, um, this sort of thing. Kind of...cathartic to just...be there.”

He nodded and awkwardly sat down in front of the sofa again, letting his long legs sprawl under the table; she slid down next to him, keeping a healthy distance between them as she tucked her knees up to her chest. “So-- anyway, like I kind of said earlier, um...I’m just...really sorry.”

She was tugging at the ends of her hair, twisting it in her hands as she spoke. “Because it was, like, really fucked up of me to say that to you. That kissing you was just...getting something out of the way. That was...just really, really shitty. And not why I did it.”

He hadn’t really known what to expect, but this hadn’t been it. “Um. So why did...um…”

“I really did want to kiss you, not just….because I was curious. Or because I’ve always wanted to. Which I have,” she added, and he glanced over to see her cheeks had turned a little pink. “But, um...I guess I just...I do this thing where I, like, think something is going to be inevitable, and so then I’m like ‘well let’s just get the waiting over with and do it’, and then I just jump in headfirst and it never actually, like, goes well.”

“What do you mean, _inevitable_?”  
“Like, well...like I just, you know, walked into this coffee shop and suddenly the boy I was in love with for like four years is there making my coffee, which is crazy because neither of us is from L.A., and then I didn’t even recognize you at first because...well, okay, I’m already being honest so I’ll just say that like...college was _definitely_ kind to you, and so then I was like ‘holy shit, this is like a movie or something and it’s meant to be’ and then you called me pretty and then we were just _talking_ and it felt like-- like...really good. But then I kissed you and you were so nervous and then like, a _really_ good kisser and then it just hit me that you’re-- you’re _Kristoff_ , and I’m, like, this huge fucking mess, and whenever I just jump into shit I always fuck it up or it fucks me up, and I’d already lost you once and now I’d just found you and how shitty would it be if I just, like, ruined it or like, hurt your feelings or something, and then I was like ‘okay well just play this off Anna’ and then-- then I just lied and acted like it didn’t matter which is like, the opposite of the truth, because it did matter, and you matter, and I just hurt you anyway which is what I didn’t want to do, and I’m really really sorry that I’m such a fuckup and that I’m crying on your living room floor again and I’ll go home now if you want.”

He’d held back as she spoke, knowing that she needed to just get it all out, but he couldn’t stand it any longer; he reached over and pulled her into a hug, holding her tight as she cried into the front of his t-shirt. “And now I’m getting your shirt all soggy,” she said, muffled against his chest, and he let out a weak chuckle.

“Anna, it’s okay. I’m-- I’m not mad.”

“But you could be, if you wanted to. I’m really sorry that I hurt you.”

“No, you didn’t, seriously, it’s--”

She sat up and looked him dead in the eye, though he still didn’t drop his arms from her shoulders. “Don’t do that, Kris.”

“Do what?”

“Just-- bottle your shit up. You always used to do that, and it would drive me crazy. You’re allowed to have feelings.”

He looked at her for a long moment. She wasn’t the only person who had ever told him that, but she’d been the first. He’d never really listened, and that had ended at least one of his relationships, but-- maybe it was time.

He took a deep breath. “Okay. Yeah. I, um, I was really sad after you left.”

“You were sad while I was still there. I could tell.”

“...yeah.”

She studied him for a long moment, a few stray tears still rolling down her cheeks. “I’m seriously so, _so_ sorry, Kristoff.”

“I’ll forgive you. On one condition.”

“Anything.”

“Let’s...start over. Like...like, pretend you just came into my coffee shop. What would you

actually want to say?”

She pondered it for a moment, then a familiar sparkle came back into her eyes; he felt a little twinge in his heart at the sight. “I’d say, ‘Damn, Bjorgman, where have you been all my life?’ And then you’d say something, like, super you--”

“Like, ‘behind this counter, waiting for you to hurry up and take your coffee’.”

Anna let out a little laugh, and his heart soared. “And then I’d tell you that I’d really missed you, and that I wanted to take you out so we could catch up, and that if it was a date that would be really nice.”

“And I’d say ‘more than nice, Anna, it would be amazing’.”

“Really?”

He nodded, leaning his forehead against hers. “I kinda...I think I felt the inevitable thing, too.”

Her hand drifted up to his cheek. “We could be wrong, you know.”

“Yeah.”

“We could just both be like, really horny. I know for me it’s been like, _way_ too long, but you’re kind of super hot now, so--”

“No, it’s been like...since my last girlfriend. Which ended last fall, so--”

“Oh, shit, that’s probably it--”

“No,” he said softly, “I don’t think it is.”

She bit her lip. “Maybe we still shouldn’t kiss just yet. Just to be sure.”

“Okay.”

“And like, maybe it feels inevitable because we’re still thinking of each other as our high school selves. So maybe we should just...re-get to know each other.”

“Okay.”

“So like, definitely no kissing. Or touching. So we can rule the horniness out.”

“Like touching only in a sexy way, or is this--”

“No, no, this is good. Hugs are good. We can cuddle, like, all day long. Like--”

She turned a little, swinging her legs over his lap and nestling her head against his shoulder. “Like this feels really nice. Is this okay?”

“Almost.”

He tugged her a little closer, wrapping his arms around her waist and leaning his chin on the top of her head. “Okay. Now we’re good.”

They were quiet for a long moment; Anna nestled closer to him, letting her hand drift absentmindedly across his chest, drawing tiny shapes. “Also,” he said, feeling his cheeks start to burn, “I forgot to mention this, but you’re super hot now, too. I kinda always thought you were, though.”

“Even though I’m like, the girl in the tampon commercial?”

“Especially then. The little string just really does it for me.”

She giggled and buried her face in his neck, her arms wrapping around him. “You’re the _woooorst_ , Kristoff, I--”

The doorbell rang, and they groaned in unison. “I’ve never been so pissed off about pizza,” Anna mumbled, scrambling to her feet and towards the door.

From the floor, Kristoff tried not to laugh as he heard the pizza guy say, “Oh my god, you’re--”

“I swear to god I will tip you double if you shut up _right now_ and never, _ever_ tell anyone about this. Or use the cartwheel GIF.”

“The one where your--”

“ _You know the one I mean_.”

There was only silence and the shuffling of bills after that until the door slammed shut and she sailed back over to him. “Don’t say a word, Bjorgman.”

He mimed zipping his lips as she opened the box, then said quickly-- “Oh-- let me get plates-- and you want something to drink? It’s, uh, I think it’s pretty much water or beer or soymilk, but you can have any of that.”

“Beer is good.”

“Yeah? Okay, great."

Once they were settled, they ate in companionable silence, occasionally meeting each other’s eyes over their plates and looking away quickly with reddened cheeks. Anna let out a sudden burp, and Kristoff snorted with laughter. “How are you still pretty when you do that?”

“Shut up,” she laughed, leaning over to gently push his chest, and then she didn’t pull away and their eyes locked and maybe they both definitely had garlic breath and had said _no kissing_ but they were leaning towards each other anyway and then there was a rattle of keys in the door and they flew apart.

“Goddammit Kristoff, now it smells like pizza and I _told_ you to stop ordering in without me and-- _holy shit that’s a girl_.”

Anna waved at him. “Sorry. But there’s still a piece left if you want it. Saves us from arguing over it.”

Sven’s eyes darted between the two of them, trying to make sense of it all. At last, he seemed to give up and plopped onto the floor between them, snagging the piece and taking a big bite. “So did you guys, like, figure your shit out?”

“Um…” Anna said, looking over at Kristoff. 

He shrugged. “I’d say so.”

“ _Sweet_ , because I went to Gamestop on the way home and got a copy of Wii Mario Kart, and you know I still have that Wii in the top of my closet so if you could make yourself useful for once, Bjorgman, and grab that for us, we could definitely do some split-screen.”

Anna ended up staying three hours more, even managing to hold her own against Sven until he insisted on playing Rainbow Road three times in a row “because that’s where _true_ warriors are found”. After fifteen minutes of spending more time off the track than on it while Kristoff, who had surrendered five races ago, laughed, she dropped the controller and held up her hands. “I surrender! Okay, you’re the undisputed champion.”

Sven nodded his head, looking astonishingly dignified for someone with a piece of popcorn clinging to his hair-- a remnant of an earlier battle over who got to be Peach. 

(Anna had won that one, at least.)

She glanced at her phone and winced. “Oh, shit, it’s almost ten. I told Elsa I’d probably call her to pick me up at like, six. She’s got work in the morning, I--”

“Don’t even have to ask,” Kristoff said, getting to his feet. “C’mon.”

“It’s like, half an hour from here, are you sure? I’ll give you gas money if--”

“Don’t worry about it. Seriously.”

Sven flopped onto the sofa, letting his lanky legs dangle over the end, and waved as they headed out. “Don’t have too much fun without me. Come back next week, and we’ll do Super Smash Bros, yeah?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

There were a million questions he wanted to ask Anna on the drive to her apartment; how she’d ended up in L.A., what her sister had been up to, whether she still held such strong opinions over the best place to get a Sprite (always McDonald’s, though Kristoff would pretend he liked bottled better just to see her fume)-- but as soon as she’d plugged her address into his phone, she started drifting off.

The roads were mostly clear on the way to her apartment, so after a few minutes Kristoff hesitantly set his right hand on her knee, still hardly daring to believe that this was real, that she was really right there beside him. She yawned and pressed her own hand over it; at the next stoplight, he glanced over and saw that she’d dozed off, a little smile on her face.

She blinked blearily awake as he pulled up to her building. “Morning, sleepyhead,” he said softly, squeezing her hand.

Anna leaned over and pressed a soft kiss against his cheek. “Thanks for the ride. And the forgiveness.”

“Anytime. Tell Elsa I said hey, yeah?”

“Will do. Oh-- I didn’t actually get your number, did I?”

He handed over his phone, and she quickly typed hers in. “Text me when you get home, okay?”

“Okay.”

She kissed his cheek again, and then she was gone, nearly skipping up the sidewalk. He waited until she was indoors and a light had come on up on the sixth floor before pulling away, a ridiculous smile on his face.

* * *

He didn’t have work the next day and always slept in, so when his phone started buzzing on his bedside table anyway, he ignored it for a moment before realizing it was a call, not an alarm. He reached blindly for it and tapped the green button.

“Whozit?”

“Kristoff?”

“Anna? What’s up? Is everything okay?”

“Yeah-- it’s-- it’s great, actually.”

It didn’t sound like it was great. It sounded like she was out of breath and had either been laughing or crying. “Um-- are you sure?”

“I, um, I got the part.”

He sat straight up, suddenly wide awake. “Holy shit, that’s awesome.”

“I know. And they want me to go ahead and-- and fly out in a few days.”

“Fly out? What do you mean?”

“It’s, um, they’re doing rehearsals and shooting and everything on location and stuff. Well, not all of it, just-- a lot of it.”

“On location...where?”

“Um...Romania. For six weeks.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	4. packing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> banged this one out all in one go LOL

“Oh! Kristoff!”

“Elsa, hey. Is Anna here?”

She stepped back from the door, waving him in. “She just ran out to 7-Eleven for snacks, I think. She was talking kind of fast, you know how she is.”

“Yeah,” he said with a little laugh, shoving his hands in his pockets as he stepped into their apartment. 

It was nice--  _ much _ nicer than his, with a sofa that still resembled something worth sitting on and lots of deep green, leafy plants in the corners. Elsa led him to the kitchen and motioned for him to sit on one of the stools at the counter.

“Your place-- it’s really nice,” he said for want of something better to say, and she smiled.

“Thanks, lived here for, oh-- two years now? Since I started working at a new place a couple of blocks away. Not new anymore, of course.”

“Of course.”

She looked as awkward as he felt; she turned away and started filling two glasses of water. “So-- you and Anna are…”

“Um. Yeah.”

She waved a hand. “She explained to you?”

“Um-- yeah. I think?”

God, this was a conversation he really did  _ not _ want to have with his friend-but-much-more-but-not-girlfriend’s older sister, even if he had known her for years. Elsa slid a glass to him across the counter and leaned against it, watching him closely.

“She’s too hard on herself,” she said quietly, drumming her fingers against her own cup. “Worse than she used to be since she moved out here. And so when a good thing comes along, she tends to-- what’s the word? When you ruin things for yourself?”

“Self-sabotage?”

“Yeah, that. So-- well. She told me what happened. And I’m glad she apologized and you’re, you know, working it out.”

He nodded, feeling relieved that he was getting this instead of the “don’t you dare hurt her” conversation. He’d always appreciated that about Elsa; they’d never really been close, but throughout the years whenever she’d felt the need to talk to him about something important, she’d given it to him straight.

“I, um, thanks. I’m glad, too.”

She smiled. “And just so we’re clear, I’m counting you as one of those good things. She’s missed you. I have too, actually, nice to know you’re around in case we break something around here. You do still remember how to fix a sink, right?”

Kristoff laughed. “I missed you guys, too. And yeah, unless there’s something different about the water in L.A.”

“There has to be, honestly, considering how much higher my utilities bill is every month.”

They both laughed at that, then sat in an only semi-awkward silence for a minute, sipping their water and looking at everything but each other. Suddenly the door slammed open, followed by Anna’s somewhat panicked voice saying, “Oh! Kris! You’re here already!”

He turned to see Anna standing in the doorway, her arms laden with plastic shopping bags. She was wearing an oversized college t-shirt over a pair of running shorts, her hair thrown up into another bun, and judging by her face she was somewhere between embarrassed, excited, and terrified.

“I, um, yeah, I am. I told you I’d come as soon as I could but-- um, is this too soon?”

“Oh, fuck, no, that’s not what I meant, I just-- I guess I lost track of time, I was like, definitely going to change out of this and then, like, actually, you know, clean my room and shit but--”

“It’s fine,” he said quickly, “you’re fine, you look great, and I’m sure your room does too.”

Elsa snorted into her glass of water. “Spoken too soon,” she muttered, making her way to a door on the far side of the living room. “Anyway, you two have fun. I’ve got some work to do, but just yell if you need me, yeah?”

Before they could respond, she was already in her room, the door closing behind her. Kristoff could have sworn he heard a sigh of relief.

Anna was still standing in the front door, the panic in her face slowly turning to a smile. “You really, like, just got up and came over?”

“I mean, yeah,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s my day off, and honestly I was just going to go to the gym and then veg out watching Parks and Rec or something, but given the choice between that and hearing about you getting this part-- well. Not really a choice. Um-- want help with the bags?”

She blinked and looked down as if she’d forgotten she was holding them. “Oh! Oh, yeah, that would be great.”

He took an armful from her; he would have taken them all, but she shook her head and said “No, you’re a guest! Anyway-- come on, I’ve got to pack, but we can talk in my room, okay? And I have snacks for you-- that’s what all this is. Well, most of it, anyway.”

She started walking to another door, turning back over her shoulder to look at him as she chattered away. “I remembered you liked Pringles, but not what flavor, so I got a few different ones, and then bottled Sprite since that’s your favorite, remember all the times we argued about it? And then candy for me because I’ve still got the  _ worst _ sweet tooth, I’m going to have to cut back if I’m going to be in this movie but for now I can still go wild, and anyway-- shit, I’m really sorry about the mess.”

It looked like a bomb had gone off in her room. Two suitcases were flung open on the floor, both of them completely empty, while piles of makeup and toiletries and clothing were scattered over every available surface. Kristoff tried and failed not to blush when he saw a row of lacy panties hung to dry on the back of a chair.

Anna looked up at him, biting her lower lip. “Sorry, um-- I literally got the call at like, seven this morning, and I have to go to meetings this afternoon at like, two, to finalize everything, and then tomorrow there’s script readings all day, and then Thursday we fly out. Something about-- about how this is the best time of year, and how the castle they’re filming in is always booked up, so this is. Um. Kind of the only chance I have to pack.”

Kristoff struggled to come up with something useful to say. “Wow. Kinda fast, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, apparently this movie wasn’t going to get made, and then someone did something and now it is again, and they’d fired the first actress who was going to do this part and picked me so I’m like, the last one cast. Even though I think I’m the main character.”

“Anna, that’s  _ awesome _ .”

She looked up at him, surprise in her eyes. “I-- you think so?”

“I mean, yeah! This is why you moved to L.A., right? To be a movie star, right? And now you’re going to be one!”

His excitement had only been growing since she had told him that morning; he felt such an overwhelming sense of pride he wanted to run up and down the streets of the city yelling at everyone that she’d done it, that Anna was going to be the next big thing. But for some reason, as he looked at her now, her eyebrows were pinching together in a little frown.

“But I’m going to have to leave,” she said softly, and Kristoff swallowed hard.

“Well-- yeah,” he said, setting the bags he was holding into one of the suitcases and stepping closer to her. “But you’ll come back.”

Anna set her bags down, too, her expression unreadable. “And I meant, like, Romania the country. Not-- not like some other city in California or something.”

“Anna, I’m not  _ quite _ as stupid as I look,” he said dryly, and she forced a laugh.

“Just-- making sure you understand.”

“Of course I understand. You’ve gotten the chance of a lifetime, and I’m so proud of you I’m going to actually get a Netflix subscription so I can watch you and cheer you on. Even though by then the hard part will be done, I think.”

For once she was speechless; she just stepped forward, flinging her arms around his waist and burying her face in his shoulder. He hugged her back, already knowing he was going to miss the feel of her in his arms.

“Thank you, Kristoff.”

“For what?”

“For just-- for being, like, the best friend anyone could ever ask for. Well, friend and then some, I guess.”

_ And then some _ might have been the most beautiful words he’d ever heard. “Of course, Anna, anytime. I seriously am so _ , so _ proud of you.”

She pulled back a little to peek up at him. “I would be more than happy to keep just hugging you all day, but I seriously do have to pack.”

He brushed a stray lock of hair off her cheek. “That’s fine. Let me help you, and you can tell me all about the auditions and the part and everything else, okay?”

“You don’t have to help, really, you can just eat your Pringles.”

“I want to help.”

“But--”

“So I’m helping,” he said firmly, and at last she smiled at him, so brightly it took his breath away.

She had him sit on the edge of her bed and put him to work folding piles of t-shirts and jeans, handing him new ones as she sorted through the piles. “It’s like, a private jet, I think, or maybe we’re doing first class or something-- I  _ know _ , yeah, insane. So I think I can take whatever I need but I don’t want to be, like, a huge diva or something, so I’m only trying to do two suitcases and then my backpack, but I’ve never really done something like this, so I don’t even know what I’ll need.”

“Wait,” he asked, carefully folding one of her Buchanan High shirts and feeling a little swoop in his chest at the memories that came with it, “have you left the country before? Have you got a passport or anything?”

“Oh, yeah, I went to Vancouver once on a dare.”

“Um, okay, let’s table that story for later,” he said, and she laughed and bumped her shoulder against his knee from where she was sitting on the floor sorting through lipstick. “Do you know what the weather will be like there?”

“Yeah, I looked at it on my phone. It gets pretty hot there, but I don’t think they really do AC, so fuck me, I guess.”

“Worth it, though. Do you think you’ll get a chance to go sightseeing or anything?”

“Ooh, I hadn’t thought of that! I hope so. Maybe I’ll see Dracula or something.”

“I hope not. What am I supposed to do if you come back here and start trying to suck my blood?”

“Let me do it, duh. Then we can be undead together forever.”

“Sure, that sounds fun  _ now _ , but just wait til you get annoyed with me.”

“I’ve never gotten annoyed before with you, actually,” she said absentmindedly. “Take that purple shirt out of the pile, actually, will you? I don’t have any lipstick to match it.”

He did, trying to ignore another little swoop in his chest. For several minutes after that, he just watched her and waited for his next thing to fold, hoping she didn’t notice him staring. He just couldn’t bring himself to look away; it wasn’t that he’d been hung up on her for the last seven years, exactly, more that he found himself still thinking of her fairly often, wondering what she was up to, if there was a way to get in touch with her. In moments of weakness he’d looked up her social media profiles, or at least what he could see of them without having an account of his own, but he’d always talked himself down from trying to message her on there; she was clearly plenty busy, probably didn’t even remember him. 

He was kicking himself now for not doing a better job of getting back in touch, especially now that he knew she definitely hadn’t forgotten him, either, but at the same time he was sort of glad for the time apart if it meant they were getting this second chance together now. Maybe it was all sort of-- what had she called it? Something about how it was always going to happen this way, maybe--

_ “Holy shit!” _

He jumped, startled out of his reverie. “What’s wrong?”

“Not wrong, just--”

Anna shoved her phone in his face; he squinted at the lines of text. “What am I looking at, exactly?”

“My contract my agent just negotiated for me. Look at the big bold numbers at the bottom.”

He did; then he blinked and looked again. “Is that like, the budget for the  _ movie _ , or--”

“That’s how much they’re fucking  _ paying _ me, Kris, holy  _ shit _ .”

“That’s like--  _ damn _ , Anna.”

“I know,” she said, but she looked more nauseated than excited. “Jesus Christ, they’re really expecting good shit from me, aren’t they?”

“And you’ll do good shit,” he said, trying his best to sound reassuring. “Otherwise they wouldn’t have cast you.”

She scooted back to lean against the bed, letting her head rest on his knee. “This is, like, _ so  _ much bigger than a stupid commercial. Like, this is IMDb shit. There’s going to be people watching and  _ reviews _ and-- oh,  _ fuck _ , what have I gotten myself into?”

“You’re going to be amazing, Anna, seriously.”

“How do you know that?”

“You’re always amazing.”

She huffed out a laugh and looked up at him. “You’re just saying that because you like me.”

“Do you want me to tell you you’ll ruin everything and singlehandedly bankrupt Netflix?”

Anna was quiet for a long moment. “I...honestly, actually, that just helped. Like...the world is going to go on even if I fuck this up.”

“Exactly.”

“Will you still like me if I do?”

“Anna, I’ll always like you.”

She got to her feet and turned to face him, cupping his face in her hands and letting her thumbs run over his cheekbones. “You mean it?” she asked, sounding vulnerable.

“Of course.”

She leaned down and kissed his cheek. “I’ll always like you, too.”

He fought the urge to turn and catch her lips with his own and instead patted her hip, trying to ignore the fact that she was still wearing  _ very _ short shorts that revealed a glorious expanse of freckled thigh. “Come on, no more of this sappy stuff. You’re not done packing.”

She laughed and went back over to her piles, already tossing him more stuff. “Anyway, I feel like we’ve talked, like,  _ way _ too much about me. We’re supposed to be getting to know each  _ other _ more, right? So tell me what you’ve been up to.”

“Just, you know. School, more school. Working at Starbucks.”

“Tell me all the dirty details, Kris. Like...like what was college like? How did you meet Sven?”

“Are you sure you want to know the answer to that question? It involves beer pong and possible lawnchair theft. And a lot of running from campus police.”

“Now you _ have  _ to tell me.”

He did, and by the end of it they were both doubled over with laughter. “He seriously-- it was still in his  _ hair _ ?” Anna gasped.

“Yeah. And his shoes.”

“Oh my  _ god _ , I’m going to ask him about that next time we hang out. Which we’re doing, by the way, like, as soon as I’m back. Well-- after I’m done saying hello to you again, of course.”

“Of course,” Kristoff echoed, feeling a sudden stuttering in his chest. He looked around for something else to fold, but suddenly he realized that her room was nearly clean again, that both suitcases were full, and that Anna was looking up at him, having clearly just come to that realization herself.

“Guess that’s it,” she said, her voice suddenly tremulous. “All ready to go.”

“Yeah.”

“Thanks for-- for helping me.”

He nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

Her lower lip started to wobble. “I’m sorry, Kris.”

“Hey, hey, you already apologized yesterday, no--”

“Not for that. For leaving when we just agreed we’d, you know, try to like, make this work. I-- um--”

She ducked her head, and he frowned. “Anna--”

“I understand if you don’t want to do this anymore. Like, seriously. Don’t feel bad.”

“Anna, look at me.”

She did, tears threatening to spill down her cheeks. He held out his arms wordlessly, and she came to him, straddling his lap and curling down to bury her face in his shoulder. He set his hands on her back, holding her carefully. “Anna, I’ve already spent the last seven years wishing I could get another chance with you. What’s another six weeks?”

She pulled back from him, her eyes hopeful as they met his. “You mean it?”

“Yeah. I mean, that’s what FaceTime and stuff is for, right?”

Her hands fluttered up, stroking his hair gently back from his temples. He smiled up at her, feeling his heart begin to pound. “It’s like, a really big time difference,” she said nervously. “Like ten hours or something.”

“Okay, so I’ll call you when I get off work at night and tell you good morning.”

“Will you call in the morning and tell me good night, too?”

“I’ll call you whenever you want. And text in between.”

“And Snapchat?”

“If you tell me what that is, sure.”

Anna laughed. “You’re kidding, right?”

He waggled his eyebrows, and she gasped in mock horror. “You’re  _ not? _ Oh, Jesus Christ, Kristoff, we’ve got  _ so _ much work to do…”

* * *

The production company had offered to send a private car over to take her to the airport Thursday morning, but Kristoff had volunteered to drive her anyway. “I don’t work until two, so there’s plenty of time,” he’d reassured her, and she’d felt an immense sense of relief at the fact that she’d at least be able to give him a real goodbye.

He was there right when he’d said he’d be, and came up and chatted to Elsa over coffee while Anna finished shoving a few last things in her carryon. He carried the suitcases downstairs for her, too, one in each hand as if it were nothing.

“You’re just showing off for me,” she’d teased-- not that she’d minded, considering the way his biceps flexed under his t-shirt as he hefted them into the trunk of the car.

“So what if I am?” he’d teased back, and she’d felt a thrill of excitement run through her.  _ God _ , she was really regretting suggesting the no-kissing thing.

She turned in her seat the moment she was buckled, determined to make the most of the next forty minutes. “So I know we’re going to talk on the phone, like, every day, but that’s not the  _ same _ , so I have a list of questions to ask you.”

He huffed out a laugh as he turned the keys in the ignition. “Okay. Shoot.”

“Which of the Pringles flavors was your favorite?”

“Pizza, like always.”

“What’s your favorite color?”

“Still green.”

“How many girlfriends have you had?”

He raised an eyebrow, not looking away from the road. “Going for the heavy hitters right away, I see.”

“I’ve had six boyfriends and dated like...a bunch of others,” she said, trying not to blush. “Does that bother you?”

“Not in the slightest.”

“And that I’m not a virgin?”

“Neither am I. Three girlfriends, by the way.”

“Will you tell me the story of how that happened?”

“How I managed to get a girlfriend, or--”

“No,” she said, and she was definitely blushing now. “The  _ other thing _ .”

“I was a freshman, and her name was Marie, and we’d been together for six months, so we did it because it seemed like the thing to do, and then we realized we didn’t actually like each other and broke it off while we were getting dressed.”

“ _ Jesus _ , that’s cold!”

“Nah, it really wasn’t. Or, well, it was mutually cold. So it’s fine, really.”

“Want to know mine?”

“If you want to tell me.”

“Sophomore year. I went on like, five dates with this guy on the baseball team just because I liked the way his ass looked in the pants. But he was so  _ boring _ I just couldn’t actually date him. The sex was okay, though, at least after the first time. That time was shitty. It was on his dorm bed, and they had those suite-style rooms with the bathroom in the middle, and we realized his roommate had been in there taking a shit the whole time.”

“You’re  _ kidding _ .”

“God, I wish.”

Kristoff laughed as he pulled onto the highway. “Jesus. Not sure which of ours is worse.”

“Your ass is better than that guy’s, though, for sure.”

His cheeks flushed brilliantly scarlet. “I don’t know, I’ve heard baseball players have, you know, good ones.”

“Not as good as yours,” she said airily, and then suddenly her cheeks felt warm, too, and so did the rest of her as she thought about how good his ass had looked when he’d bent over to shove her suitcases in the car, and then she turned the radio on up as loud as it could go and started singing at the top of her lungs.

Kristoff just laughed, stealing glances at her at every chance he got. Once they were off the interstate again, he held out his hand, and she took it gladly, memorizing the warmth of it wrapped around her fingers. Six weeks-- just six weeks. She could do this.

All too soon, he pulled up at the short term parking lot and got out to unload her suitcases. She followed close behind him, overwhelmed by the sudden roaring in her ears and blurring in her eyes. He started pulling both suitcases by himself, but she took one handle and pulled back. He raised an eyebrow, and she said softly, “Let me roll one. So-- so then we can hold hands a little longer.”

He didn’t argue after that, just let go of the handle. She linked her fingers gratefully with his as they walked in together.

A production assistant was waiting just inside the doors. “Miss Arendelle, thanks for being so prompt. No need to go through security, just follow me right this way if you will.”

The woman started walking off right away. Panic seized Anna’s chest as she turned to look up at Kristoff, but he just smiled down at her, his eyes steady. “Text me when you land, okay?”

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. He let go of the suitcase and pulled her into a tight hug; she wrapped her arms around him just as tightly, memorizing the feel of his hands on her back and his shoulder against her cheek.

“Six weeks,” he whispered, and she nodded against him before pulling regretfully away. 

She took a suitcase in each hand and followed after the woman, who had finally stopped and was now pretending not to be annoyed. They started down a long hallway; just as they were about to turn a corner, she glanced back and saw Kristoff still standing there, still watching, still with that sweet, encouraging smile on his face.

She dropped the handles of both suitcases and sprinted back towards him. His arms went out just in time to catch her as she launched herself towards him, wrapping her legs around his waist as he lifted her off the ground, and then she was kissing him, her mouth insistent against his as her hands tangled in his hair.

She pulled away with a gasp to catch her breath. “Sorry,” she said, panting, “I-- I just--”

“Inevitable, right?” he breathed, and she leaned down with a grin to kiss him just one more time.


	5. phone calls

**day 1**

Sven was just stumbling into the kitchen when Kristoff came in. He frowned, narrowing his eyes suspiciously.

“You look _really_ happy for someone who just dropped off their girlfriend at the airport for a six-week trip,” he said, pouring a glass of chocolate milk. 

“Not my girlfriend.”

“Not the important part of that sentence.”

Kristoff snagged the bottle and poured himself a cup. “This is mine, by the way, so you owe me.”

“Fine, I’ll buy toilet paper l-- _no_ , I know you, Bjorgman, you’re trying to distract me.”

Sven narrowed his eyes further, fixing Kristoff with a hard stare. He tried to look as innocent as possible as he went to rummage through the fridge, but then he remembered the way Anna had clung to him, the feel of her little hands in his hair, the press of her lips against--

“Oh my god! You kissed her!”

Kristoff stood, not bothering to hide his smile anymore. “Well, technically, she kissed me.”

“I fucking _called_ it, man, I knew you wouldn’t be able to hold off that much longer.”

“We really did try.”

“You didn’t even make it a week, my guy,” Sven said amiably, meandering into the living room. “You tried harder at Mario Kart the other night. Which, by the way, I _know_ you lost on purpose so Anna could win.”

Kristoff considered arguing, but then his phone lit up with a text from Anna, so instead he grinned and walked away to the sound of Sven sighing dramatically. “I heard that buzz! I know it’s her! Jesus, I’d say get a room, but--”

Kristoff didn’t hear the rest as he shut his bedroom door.

_kris!! theres wifi i can text you_

_Im in first class look_

_That’s crazy_

_They gave you champagne this early in the morning?_

_supposed to be for mimosas_

_but it’s like 5 o clock somewhere_

_specifically romania so_

_That jet lag is going to be rough._

_How long is your flight?_

_10 hrs to london then 3 to bucharest💀_

_but i think my seat turns into a bed so ill try to sleep_

_theres sooooo many movies tho!_

_omg theyre bringing more snacks….i feel like a movie star already_

_You kind of are._

_havent made the movie yet!!_

_oh the director is here he wants to talk ttyl_

_:)_

* * *

**day 4**

For some reason, her hands were shaking as they hovered over the green button. “Just do it, Anna,” she muttered to herself. “It’s just Kristoff. He _told_ you to call.”

Thanks to the time difference and long flights, it had taken most of two days to even get here, and on her first full day in Romania she’d been so overwhelmed with the film set and meeting her co-star Adam and talking to the directors and producers and costumers and cameramen that she’d completely crashed the moment she’d gotten back to her hotel room. She’d woken up in the middle of the night and sent Kristoff a quick text apologizing for not calling; he’d responded almost immediately, reassuring her that it was fine and to just call him the next day. _At a reasonable hour_ , he’d made sure to add, _not at 2 A.M. Go back to sleep._

She had, and then she’d nearly missed her alarm and hadn’t had time to call him in the morning, and then she’d been filming her first scene and been so overwhelmed by all of _that_ that now it was nearly six o’clock, and it was the first time she’d gotten to look at her phone all day.

He’d texted her once at around 9 A.M. her time. _Good luck today! You’ll kill it_ . Her heart had done a funny little flip at the message, simple as it was; every time she thought of Kristoff, it didn’t feel quite real, like it was just a daydream she would wake up from, but here it was, concrete proof that even literally halfway around the world-- _more_ than halfway, actually-- he was still thinking of her, still caring about her.

The remembrance of that was what finally gave her the courage to hit _call_. She felt too nervous to FaceTime him, especially considering she was already in sweatpants and halfway through eating a bowl of pasta on her bed. He picked up on the third ring, sounding breathless for some reason.

“Hey! Anna! How are you?”

“I’m, um, I’m good! How are you? You sound kind of...out of breath?”

“Oh, yeah, you caught me at the gym, so I--”

“Oh! I’m so sorry, let me hang up and--”

“No, don’t! I’m almost done, just--”

There was a quick beep in the background, and a whirring noise she hadn’t noticed until now stopped. “Okay, sorry, we’re good.”

She couldn’t help but imagine what he looked like right now, with his hair hanging in his eyes and sweat dripping down his _very_ well-muscled--

“Anna? You there?”

He’d just asked her something, but she’d been too busy daydreaming to catch it. Maybe it really was for the best she hadn’t gone for FaceTime; she probably would have been struck speechless at the sight of him. “Sorry, I was just-- sorry. Um. What did you say?”

He laughed softly. “I asked how your first day of filming went.”

“Oh! It was good, really good, actually. We filmed that scene I auditioned with, actually. They changed the bit about the cowboy boots.”

“Thank god. I don’t know anything about movies, but I know that was _awful_.”

“Oh, yeah, Adam-- that’s who’s playing Jesse-- he said they’d have to double his paycheck if they wanted him to say shit like that, and then we kind of improv-ed something else and it went really well.”

“That’s awesome!”

Anna felt herself blushing, just barely, at the sound of the genuine pride in his voice. “It was, um, it was nothing, really.”

“So how’s all of it going? Are the...um...honestly, I don’t know who all is involved in making movies. But are the other people nice?”

“Yeah! I really like the girl who does my hair and makeup, her name’s Honey. Isn’t that cute?”

Kristoff laughed; she could hear him starting the car in the background. Anna bit her lip. “Oh-- did you get to shower?”

“I will at home, don’t worry. Anyway--”

“You need to focus on driving? Yeah, I totally get it, seriously. Bye!”

She hit the red button and quickly dropped her phone. Her heart had been pounding the whole time; _god_ , she was really out of practice with this whole thing. Embarrassment swept over her, and she buried her face in her knees; how the hell was this going to work when she was too self-conscious to talk to him for more than five minutes? God, she’d be lucky if he ever bothered to call her again after this.

To her surprise, the phone buzzed only a moment later. She debated picking it up for a long moment, then decided to go ahead and rip the bandaid off and snatched it up.

_Just FYI, I was feeling really nervous, too. Want me to call you back after I get home and shower?_

For some reason, tears started to fill her eyes as she typed a response. 

_yes please :)_

She showered, too, taking her time as she let the hot water work its magic on the tension in her shoulders, drawing in slow, deep breaths to steady herself. It wasn’t that every guy she’d ever dated had been _bad_ , per se, just that it had been quite a long time since she’d been with someone who made her feel this nervous and excited and terrified and joyful all at once-- actually, now that she thought about it, she didn’t know if she’d ever liked someone else this much right off the bat. Since coming to L.A. almost two years ago, she’d had a string of bad luck with men, and it was strange readjusting to the notion that one would want to talk to her as much as she wanted to talk to him, that he actually _wanted_ to hear about her day, that he saw right through all her embarrassing little defense mechanisms and somehow knew just what to say to make her feel better. Of course they knew each other, but this was something different, something more, as if she didn’t even have to say something for him to understand.

Her phone buzzed again ten minutes after she got out of the shower; with a smile, she picked it up.

“Hey, Kris.”

“Hey, Anna.”

“Ready to try again?”

“With you? Always.”

* * *

**day 9**

“So I was telling her, like, ‘I wish I had a recent picture of him to show you because he’s like, _super_ super hot.’ And she kind of made this face and was like ‘that won’t make a difference.’”

He’d put the phone down on the counter while he made breakfast, but now that his hands were free again he still didn’t pick it up; after their initial awkward phone call, they’d started FaceTiming instead, and as much as he loved seeing her face, he was _really_ glad she couldn’t see his right now. 

“And I was _soo_ confused, so I started telling her, like, ‘Seriously, Honey, he’s got this amazing blond hair that you just like, want to _touch_ all the time and these big brown _eyes_ and little _freckles_ and plus I’m pretty sure he’s kind of _ripped_ and I—‘ Kristoff, I heard the microwave go off already. Are you hiding from me?”

“No,” he muttered, his face turning even redder. 

Anna giggled. “Then show me your face.”

He did so reluctantly; to his surprise, she didn’t laugh. “Kris, you _know_ you are, like, super handsome, right? Seriously.”

“I’m, um, I’m just gonna—“

“I mean it. Like I get why you’re feeling shy about it and stuff but just know that, okay?”

He only nodded, feeling a little better, although his face was still heated. Anna, knowing when to leave well enough alone, smiled at him and continued her story. “Anyway, I told her all that and she just started laughing, and finally when I was done she was like ‘Anna, I’m gay’. And so then I showed her a picture of my sister, and I’m just saying, when we’re back in LA, we’re _definitely_ doing a double date.”

* * *

**day 15**

She didn’t know _why_ she felt so nervous about telling him about it. She’d already texted him that morning telling him what scenes they were filming, and it wasn’t like it had _meant_ anything; it was just part of the movie, and Adam was married anyway— but then again, it wasn’t that part that had really been bothering her. She still wasn’t sure until she was explaining it all to Kristoff, forcing herself to maintain eye contact as she held up her phone inside the blanket nest she’d constructed on her bed. 

“And like, he and I are good friends now, so that at least made it easier. And we were all in character and stuff, so, you know, it felt right, and then they started the fake snow going and we just did it, you know?”

“Uh-huh,” Kristoff said, his voice neutral. 

“That like— this doesn’t bother you, right?” she asked quickly. “Because seriously, it didn’t mean—“

“Anna, I know. This is literally your job, I’m not jealous or anything. But please tell me if I ever make you feel like I’m mad or something, because I’m seriously not.”

She let out the breath she’d been holding. “I— I know. I just...wanted to make sure. Because it still, like...still felt weird to me, you know? And I can’t figure out why.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “Have you done this before? Like, stage kissing and stuff?”

“Oh, yeah, lots of times. But this time felt kind of different. I just don’t know why.”

He considered it for a moment, looking so thoughtful she couldn’t help but smile, feeling a little flutter in her chest at the thought that he really and truly cared about helping her figure this out. “Enough about me, though, tell me about that crazy to-go order you texted me about. Did you end up getting to see the person who’d ordered it?”

They talked for so long Anna lost track of time, until she yawned so widely Kristoff stopped talking mid-sentence. 

“Anna, what time is it there?”

“Um...close to eleven?”

“What time did you get up this morning?”

“...four.”

He laughed softly. “Get some sleep. I’ll talk to you again tomorrow morning, okay?”

She wanted to argue, but honestly she’d been fighting to keep her eyes open for the last half hour. “Night, Kris.”

“Night, Anna. Sweet dreams.”

He said that every night, but the way he’d smiled tonight— she was thinking about it until long after she’d hung up her phone and closed her eyes. Then, suddenly, she sat upright and snatched it up again, typing furiously. 

_figured it out...before, there’s never been someone i ACTUALLY wanted to kiss instead_

_:)_

_I wish it had been me, too._

  
  


* * *

**day 21**

_hey kris!!! sorry i know it’s the middle of the night there so i hope this doesn’t wake you up but i set an alarm on my phone for the exact time and as of like 10 seconds ago we’re halfway there!!!!!!! 😊😊😊_

To her surprise, a response came just a few minutes later. 

_:) Knew we could do this._

* * *

**day 23**

  
  


“I got my class schedule today.”

“Yeah? Show me!”

He held it up awkwardly to the camera, and she squinted at it. “Oh, wow, that’s a lot of blocks. Are you still going to work at Starbucks?”

“Yeah, I’ve been there the whole time I’ve been in school. Just work less hours on weekdays, usually pick up some early morning weekend shifts.”

“Oh, that sucks.”

He shrugged. “It works out. I, uh, I’ve got some scholarships that cover most of my tuition, so then it’s, y’know. Rent money and stuff.”

Anna frowned, feeling suddenly acutely aware of how much money she was making for a lot less work. “Will you have, like...any free time?”

“Oh, yeah, of course,” he said quickly, suddenly sounding nervous. “I promise I’ll still have time to hang out with you and stuff, just--”

“No, no that’s like-- shit, that’s not what I meant, Kris, I mean I kind of did but like-- I’m not trying to like, pressure you or--”

“No, I get it, I--”

“No, I mean like school is way important and you like--”

“Seriously, when I say we can--”

Anna took a deep breath. “Okay. You talk first.”

“I, um. I don’t want you to think, like, I won’t make time for you or something, though. Um-- that was all.”

She smiled, wishing she could be there in person; it was so much _easier_ to reassure him when she could just squeeze his hand. “Seriously, that’s not what I meant. I was just worried about you, ‘cause that’s, like, a lot of stress. So if there’s anything I can do to like, help or whatever, just...just let me know. Like...with anything.”

“Seriously, I think it’ll help a ton to just have a pretty girl keeping me company while I study.”

She felt her cheeks turn pink. “What if I end up wanting to distract you?”

Now she wasn’t the only one blushing.

* * *

**day 30**

“Miss you.”

“Miss you, too.”

Tonight, there wasn’t really anything else to say.

* * *

**day 34**

He’d stopped leaving his phone on silent overnight; it was silly, really, but he always had a tiny fear that maybe something would happen over in Romania while he was asleep, and maybe Anna would need to reach him, and there probably wouldn’t be anything he could actually do...but still.

Despite that, though, it still took a lot to wake him, so when his phone went off one night close to three in the morning, he nearly missed the call. “Hello?” he mumbled sleepily, putting it to his ear.

He heard a familiar little giggle. “It’s FaceTime, Kris. I’m sorry to wake you up, I just-- I really wanted you to see this.”

“Oh-- hang on.” He fumbled for his glasses on the nightstand, sliding them on and blinking blearily at the screen. “Um...where are you? I just see, like...the ceiling?”

“Oh-- that’s cause I gave my phone to Honey, just a second, and she’ll show you.”

The phone was lifted up suddenly by a pretty woman with bronze skin and dark hair thrown up into a bun. “Nice to meet you, Anna’s boyfriend.”

He wondered if she could see him blush even in the dark room. “Nice to meet you, too.”

“Okay, okay, I’m ready!” he heard Anna chirp from somewhere. “Turn the camera!”

Honey did with a laugh, and Kristoff sat upright, his eyes wide. Anna was in a deep blue ballgown that fit perfectly to her torso before flaring out into a long, shimmery skirt. Her hair was down, set in curls that shone especially bright against the dark color of the gown, and she was smiling so brightly he thought his heart was going to burst.

“You look beautiful, baby,” he said, half-convinced he was still dreaming.

She was quiet for a moment, and then he realized she was blushing bright red. He heard Honey giggle, and then the phone was being handed back over to Anna. “You’ve never called me that before.”

“What, beautiful? I definitely--”

“No, I--” Her blush deepened. “Kris, are you wearing a shirt?”

He glanced down. “Oh-- uh, no, I’m not. Sorry, I didn’t think you’d be able to see without the lights--”

A mischievous glint was twinkling in her eye. “Trust me, Bjorgman, there’s _nothing_ to apologize for.”

Now he was blushing, too. “Um-- so you’ve got to be filming something special today, right?”

“Yeah, the big ballroom scene. I just...I really love this dress, and the way Honey did my hair and stuff, and I, um...I wanted you to see.”

He smiled softly. “I’m glad. You really do look so, _so_ beautiful.”

She opened her mouth to say something else, but then he heard Honey call, “Hey, Anna, say bye to the boyfriend, they want you on set in five.”

Anna turned back to the camera, looking suddenly nervous. “Kris, _are_ you my boyfriend?”

“Do you want me to be?”

“Yeah.”

He grinned, no longer sleepy. “Okay.”

Anna laughed. “Okay?”

“Hey, it’s still the middle of the night, and I’m still kind of speechless after seeing you in that dress. Cut me some slack.”

“Go back to bed. Sorry I woke you up.”

He yawned. “I’m not.”

* * *

**day 40**

“Look! All packed!”

  
She grinned, turning her phone quickly around the room to show off her only slightly overstuffed suitcases. “And ready to come home!”

“Do you think you’ll miss it?”

“No, I mean...it’s beautiful and all here, but it’s still not _home_.”

Kristoff grinned at that. “You still want me to pick you up from the airport?”

“Um, is that even a question?”

He laughed. “Just making sure! I mean, six weeks is a long time, don’t know if you got tired of me.”

“Kristoff, the second I get back to LA, I’m like, jumping on you again and kissing the _fuck_ out of you.”

He waggled his eyebrows. “And then?”

She could tease him, too. “And then you’d better hurry the hell up and take me back to your apartment so I can show you _how_ much I missed you.”

“....Jesus Christ. Why does waiting two more days suddenly feel so much longer than the other forty?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> big shoutout to jilly and gabi for reading over this for me bc i felt super self conscious about all the texting LOL love y'all!


	6. soap

Kristoff had made her promise to try and sleep on the plane, but that was impossible, really, considering they took off at only 10 A.M. and there were so many movies to watch and so many snacks to try and-- more importantly-- he was waiting for her on the other side. 

Honey was sitting beside and for once had let up on her good-natured teasing; Anna had a feeling the other woman knew she was getting more and more nervous about getting back to L.A. She’d been looking forward to this day for what felt like  _ ages _ , but she couldn’t help feeling apprehensive; what if Kristoff saw her and all the chemistry just evaporated? Or what if he was already over it and didn’t show up to the airport at all? Or what if--

A nudge against her elbow jolted her out of her worries. “Hey,” Honey said softly. “What’s that big frown about?”

She quickly slid a smile onto her face. “Frowning? I’m not--”

“Anna, I’ve spent almost every morning the last month and a half looking at your face. Trust me, I know when something’s up.”

Anna let out a sigh. “I just...I guess I don’t really know what to expect. You know?”

“With Kristoff?”

“Yeah.”

Honey leaned back in her seat, looking thoughtful. Anna had spilled out their entire history to her over the dozens of hours she’d spent in her hair and makeup chair, and she was immensely grateful for the other woman’s friendship throughout the whole film shoot; she’d been an anchor during one of the most overwhelming times in her life. Feeling suddenly sentimental, she reached over and squeezed her friend’s hand.

Honey grinned and squeezed back. “What’s that for? I didn’t even give you some of my trademark brilliant advice yet.”

“You don’t have to. I’m just grateful to you for listening to me.”

“Hey, you’re an actress. Normally people pay for the privilege.”

Anna pretended to gag, and Honey laughed. “Okay, okay. Seriously, though, Anna, you’ve been a good friend, too. Sometimes people will go, like, a whole shoot without even learning my name.”

“Gross.”

“Yeah, seriously.”

“We’re still going to hang out once we’re back in LA, though, right?”

“Um, hell yes.”

“And you’re still going to go on a date with my sister?” Anna asked with a devilish wink.

Honey just laughed. “Only if you promise to still hang out with me when it inevitably goes terribly.”

* * *

The others had warned her that paparazzi would likely be waiting in the arrivals lobby; while Anna was by no means a big enough star to  _ really _ worry about it, there was still a decent chance she might end up in the background of someone else’s photo or that a picture might end up in the tabloids once the movie came out, so she’d thrown a sundress into her carryon to change into just in case-- and a pair of running shorts to wear underneath in case of any wardrobe malfunctions.

She slipped into the bathroom to change about an hour before they landed, grateful that the first class bathroom was at least a  _ little _ bigger than the one in economy. But as it turned out, no matter where you sat on a plane, if you were on there for eleven hours and hadn’t slept a wink, you’d end up looking pretty rough.

Anna bit her lip nervously as she pulled her hair back into a French braid to try and make it look somewhat presentable. Her face, though, was an absolutely lost cause. She’d brought a little tube of mascara with her and tried swiping some on, but even that didn’t make much of a difference.  _ You’ll be lucky if Kris doesn’t take one look and run away screaming,  _ she thought morbidly before letting out a near-silent groan and burying her face in her hands.

He’d seen her first thing in the morning and as she crawled into bed; even before she had left LA he’d seen her crying on the floor and her most unflattering giant t-shirt, but for some reason now she couldn’t shake the fear that he would see her and suddenly change his mind, that once he saw her in person again everything would change. 

Eventually the “fasten seatbelt” sign pinged back on, and she abandoned hope of making herself presentable. She settled back into her seat, chewing on her bottom lip and hoping everyone else assumed she was just nervous about the plane landing. 

And then at last they were on the ground, and she was back in LA for the first time in six weeks, and she was grabbing her carryon and walking through the gate and then immigration and then the baggage claim with everyone, and then suddenly she was hugging Honey goodbye, and a bright pop of light flooded her vision.

She felt her friend’s arms tighten around her. “Jesus, never get used to that shit,” Honey muttered.

“Oh-- they weren’t kidding about the paparazzi, were they?”

“Nah. And Adam just walked up, so if I were you I’d make a quick exit before more of them show up.” 

Honey gave her one last squeeze before pulling away. “Good luck with everything, okay? Text me if you need to talk.”

“I-- I will, have a good summer,” she said with a half-hearted wave before turning back to face the crowds of people in the arrivals hall, trying to spot Kristoff’s head above the crowd.

Another flash went off, and then suddenly a whole cluster of them as Adam walked past, waving at the crowds with practiced ease. Anna squinted against the light, temporarily blinded as she tried to fight the rising fear that he wasn’t there, that he hadn’t bothered to show up at all, or that the whole thing had been a dream.

And then, all of a sudden, she heard her name and turned to the left, and there he was, holding a bouquet of sunflowers and grinning so broadly her fears suddenly melted away. She’d imagined this moment over and over again, had thought she would run to him, jump right into his arms and kiss him, or maybe tackle him and just have her way with him then and there, or maybe he’d grab her and dip her down low and kiss her, or maybe she’d just burst into tears.

None of that happened; instead she just made her way over to him, her heart pounding harder with every step, and the moment he was within arms’ reach she dropped the handles of her suitcases and hugged him around the waist as tightly as she could, resting her head against his chest and inhaling the clean, woodsy smell of him.

Kristoff held her back just as tightly; she could feel his heart racing beneath her cheek and smiled. “Hey, Kris,” she whispered.

“Hey, Anna. Welcome home.”

She pulled back from him just enough that her eyes met his, and then she was rising up on her toes and he was leaning down and then he was kissing her so sweetly she wondered how she had ever worried about this.

At last he pulled away, wearing a dopey grin. “I, uh, I got you flowers.”

“Oh! I saw!” 

She pulled away from him just enough to take the bouquet. “You remembered sunflowers are my favorite.”

“Of course.”

She threw her arms around his neck this time, kissing him so hard she heard someone in the crowd wolf whistle, and they both pulled away, red-faced and sheepish. “So, um,” Kristoff asked, leaning his forehead against hers, “where do you want me to take you? Home, I guess?”

“Your apartment.”

He sucked in a breath. “I-- you-- I-- you weren’t kidding about that?”

“Nope. Not even a little bit.”

“Jesus, Anna, then what the hell are we waiting around here for?”

He grabbed the handles of both of her suitcases, and she followed him with a laugh, holding tight to her sunflowers in one hand and letting the other rest lightly on the back of his arm. “Sven’s not home, right?”

“Nah, won’t be til after six. He, uh, he’s a bank teller.”

“No  _ way _ . He has, like, an actual grown-up career?”

Kristoff huffed out a laugh. “Believe me, I ask myself the same thing every day.”

She knew the polite thing to do once they got to his car was help him put her suitcases in the trunk, but that would have meant forgoing the chance to watch the muscles in his arms flex as he lifted them with ease, so instead she stood to the side and admired the view, feeling a little thrill run down to her spine and settle into the beginnings of a flame somewhere deep inside her. The second he’d slammed the trunk door shut, she pulled him down into a kiss again, this time not holding back, bystanders be damned.

Kristoff responded with equal enthusiasm, fisting his hands in the back of her dress and pulling her flush against him. He caught her lower lip between his teeth, and a little moan escaped her; it was only then that he pulled away, slightly out of breath.

“Warn me if you see any police cars on the way, okay?” he asked her, still keeping her pressed against his chest as he kissed her forehead. “Because I’m  _ definitely _ speeding the whole way there.”

She spent most of the ride to his apartment wishing she’d taken the production company up on their offer of a taxi so she could have spent the trip in the backseat on Kristoff’s lap. By the way a flush was slowly creeping up his neck, he knew exactly what she was thinking about. At a particularly crowded intersection, she yawned, stretching her arms over her head and arching her back; she could feel Kristoff’s gaze on her the whole time and turned to him afterward with a smirk.

“Enjoying the show?”

He didn’t respond, just reached over and set his hand on her leg, just below where the hem of her dress had ridden up. His thumb rubbed maddeningly against the silky skin of her inner thigh, still lingering there as he looked away and started driving again, and now it was her turn to stare.

She’d missed that face; video calls just didn’t do it justice, the way the afternoon sunlight illuminated the gold in his hair and brought out the scattered freckles on his nose. A hint of stubble peppered his jaw;  _ god _ , she wanted to kiss him there, right at the corner of it, trail her lips down to his pulse point and over his throat and to his collarbone and--

She couldn’t help it. At the next light, she reached down and put her hand over his where it rested on her thigh, sliding it up a little further, almost to her hip. Kristoff’s hand tightened around her leg, and a little whimper escaped her.

His eyes slid to meet hers, his thumb circling one last time before he pulled away. She pouted at the loss of contact, and he rolled his eyes affectionately. “Anna, if you don’t stop, I’m going to have to stop this car behind an abandoned warehouse or something.”

“Would that be so bad?”

“Yes. Call me old-fashioned, but I’d rather do this in bed. The first time, at least.”

_ The first time _ . She couldn’t help but smile. “God, Kris, you really are romantic about everything, aren’t you?”

“Not everything. Only you.”

Well-- maybe she could hold off a little longer. It wasn’t easy, though; by the time he finally parked at his building Anna had to fight the urge to clamber over the console and straddle his lap. Instead, she scrambled out of the car, not caring about her suitcases, and ran around the front to meet him as he emerged.

Kristoff was laughing at first, but then she tugged him down by the collar and kissed him thoroughly, her tongue flicking over his lower lip before she pulled away, grabbing his hand. “Okay. I think I can make it now.”

“What--”

“Hurry  _ up _ ,” she whined, and he followed after her with a trace of laughter.

He paused as they walked into the lobby, a little frown appearing on his forehead. “Ah, shit, I forgot the elevator’s down."

“Jesus, we’ve got the worst luck. Third floor, though, right? Not too bad.”

She leaned up on her toes, pressing up against him as she kissed him once more, her lips parting with a contented sigh. He groaned from somewhere deep in his chest, the sound rumbling against her, and slid his hands down her back, tugging her even closer against him. 

“Anna,” he panted, “you’re going to kill me before we even get upstairs, you know that?”

“God, I hope not. I’m nowhere near finished with you.”

She pulled away from him and darted merrily up the first flight of stairs, pausing only for a moment to peer back and make sure he was following before she continued, because frankly, she’d waited long enough.

Once they were finally on the right floor, she leaned back against his door as he fumbled in his pocket for the key; the moment he was within arms’ reach she slid her hands up under the hem of his shirt, smirking when she felt him suck in a deep breath under her exploratory touch. He leaned down to slant his mouth across hers in an open-mouthed kiss as he pushed the door open; she started to stumble, but he caught her, crushing her against his broad chest.

“Hang on,” he mumbled against her mouth, kicking the door shut behind him, and Anna laced her fingers behind his neck as he lifted her off the ground. She wrapped her legs around his waist and rocked her hips experimentally against him, earning a hissed “ _ fuck _ ” as he started carrying her towards his bedroom.

Suddenly, she’d had enough of teasing.

The second he set her on the bed, she scooted to the edge and started tugging at his shirt again. “ _ Off _ ,” she said sternly, trying and failing to get it out of the way on her own. 

He pulled it off quickly and leaned down to kiss her, his hands running up her thighs, leaving goosebumps in their wake as he pushed her dress up to puddle around her hips. She’d always known he had big hands, but feeling them press against her like this, so strong and yet so gentle-- her mouth went dry as she looked up at him. He smirked, realizing the effect he was having on her, and whispered, “Your turn.”

She allowed herself one long, delicious moment to marvel at him, to run her hands over the plane of his chest and down his well-muscled abdomen, letting her fingers trace the edge of his waistband for another moment before tugging off her dress. He had to help with that, too, when she got her hair caught in a button, but he didn’t seem to mind, especially not when the moment the flimsy cotton was out of the way she unclasped her bra and tossed it aside.

Kristoff went still, just standing there, drinking her in. She wanted to blush and look away from the heat of his gaze, but instead, she kept her eyes locked on his, feeling her heart race as he hesitantly reached out, his fingers sliding down far too slowly from the corner of her jaw, trailing down the line of her throat and skimming her collarbone before finally, hesitantly landing on the curve of her breast. She arched her back, pressing into the heat of his touch, and he groaned, “God, Anna, you’re...”

There would be time for compliments later. She needed him _ , now _ . “How much did you think about this?” she asked, reaching for his zipper.

“All the damn time,” he muttered while she yanked it down, letting her hand slip inside and press against him--  _ Jesus _ , she was never going off on a six-week shoot again.

“Is it living up to your expectations?” she asked sweetly; she pressed a little harder and smirked as he bucked involuntarily against her palm.

“Do you even have to ask?” he groaned, already stepping out of his jeans. She leaned back on her hands and watched him, excitement growing in her chest. She’d spent the last six weeks dreaming about him and the way he’d looked at her, especially when he’d seen her in the gown-- and  _ god _ , it was so much better in person.

She moved back against the pillows, never looking away from his eyes. “Come here,” she whispered, and he did so eagerly, his strong arms pressing down on either side of her as his knee gently nudged her thighs apart. She ran her fingers over the solid muscle of his shoulders before sliding them up into his hair to tug him down into a lingering, heated kiss.

He pulled just barely away, his lips hovering over hers. “What do you want, Anna?”

She shivered, rising up off the mattress to press against him as he fingered the line of lace on her hip. “You. All of you.”

“I was hoping you would say that,” he whispered, his lips already tracing a line down her throat.

* * *

“We’re like, doing that again later, right?” Anna asked with a yawn.“When I’m not jetlagged.”

Kristoff pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose. “Whatever you want.”

“I promise I’m not going to fall asleep now. I know you’ve got work later, so I’m gonna make the most of it, I just gotta-- gotta--” She yawned again. “Gotta lay here for a minute. That was a workout.”

He threw an arm over her waist, pulling her close against his chest. She went gladly, nestling her face against the warmth of his shoulder. “I took today off.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Traded my shift with someone.”

“You big ol' softy,” she mumbled, turning her head to press a kiss against the crook of his neck.

“Yeah, yeah, just don’t tell Sven.”

“Oh, he knows. We talk about you all the time.”

“....no you don’t. You’re kidding, right?  _ Please _ tell me you are.”

“Mmmm...no, I don’t think I will tell you.”

He groaned, but she could hear the smile in his voice. “What am I gonna do with you, huh?”

“Keep holding me, preferably, while I take a nap. I’ll be fast, I promise.”

“I guess I can do that,” he whispered. “Sweet dreams.”

She was already fast asleep.

* * *

Anna wasn’t sure what time it was when she woke up again, but she  _ did _ know that as wonderful as it felt to be wrapped in Kristoff’s arms, she  _ really _ needed to take a shower. She pressed a drowsy kiss to his cheek and felt him stir against her.

“‘Swrong, baby?” he mumbled, not opening his eyes as he nuzzled his nose against her cheek. 

Something warm blossomed in her chest; she pressed another kiss to his jaw. “Can I use your shower?”

“Mhmm.”

When she tried to pull away, though, his arms only tightened around her. “Kris, you have to actually let  _ go _ of me.”

“Mmf...oh, sorry,” he mumbled, opening his eyes at last as he shifted away from her. “Towels are in there, just don’t use the blue one. Trust me.”

She slid out of bed and pulled her dress on just in case Sven had come home while they’d been sleeping. “Why are  _ you _ this tired?”

“Couldn’t sleep last night. Too excited.”

The warmth in her chest was only growing. She’d been halfway out the door, but at his words she turned back and leaned down to kiss him as he sat up.

“Need help in the shower?” he asked with a grin, and she laughed.

“No, I actually seriously need to wash my hair. Go back to sleep, okay?”

He yawned and looked so sweet doing it she couldn’t help but kiss his forehead one last time. “If you insist.”

She tiptoed quietly down the hallway, letting out a sigh of relief when she caught sight of the clock in the kitchen and saw it was just after one. The bathroom was sparse, as she’d expected, but they did at least have shampoo and bodywash, and when she picked up a bottle and caught a whiff of the scent she was quickly coming to associate with Kristoff, she grinned and used it, wondering if he would notice.

When she’d finished and darted back out into the hall in her towel, she could hear him banging around in the kitchen; she slipped back into his bedroom and realized suddenly that they’d left both of her suitcases in the car. She spotted a half-open drawer in his wardrobe and went over with a smile, taking out one of his old college t-shirts and pulling it on over her head. It went nearly down to her knees; she was tempted to go out wearing nothing else but instead slipped back into the shorts she’d worn under the sundress, letting her hair hang damp and loose over her shoulders.

Kristoff was too focused on whatever was on the stove to notice when she came in, so she hopped up to sit on the counter top and sidled into his field of vision, feeling a little flutter in her chest when she noticed he was wearing his glasses again and another when she realized he’d gone back out to the car and brought in the sunflowers for her and put them in a cup of water. “Good morning, sleepyhead,” he said with a little smile that quickly turned into a stunned expression when he actually turned and looked at her.

Anna bit her lip, feeling suddenly self-conscious. “You don’t mind that I borrowed this, right? It’s just my clothes are still--”

He came over, placing his arms on either side of the counter around her, and leaned in to kiss her, so fiercely she thought she might melt away then and there. After a moment he pulled away, a glazed look in his eyes, and wrapped his arms around her waist, burying his face in the crook of her neck.

“Anna?”

“Hmm?” she asked, combing her fingers gently through his hair. 

“Did you use my soap, too?”

“Mmhmm,” she whispered, and he groaned against her collarbone before pressing an open-mouthed kiss there, his teeth scraping lightly over her skin.

It was suddenly hard to breathe. “Kris-- whatever you’re cooking-- it’s going to burn,” she managed to gasp out.

“Goddammit. And I used my good cheese in those, too.”

He pulled away with a sorrowful look in his eye to flip the sandwiches in the pan, and she couldn’t help but laugh. “It’ll be okay. We’ve got all afternoon, and the day after that, and after that--”

He glanced back at her, looking suddenly pensive. “We do, don’t we?”

She nodded.  
“So...what’s next?”

“Well, I still have a few more scenes to film in the studio here...and then interviews...and then more auditions...and then TV spots...and then maybe awards shows…”

A little smile had started to appear on his face when he realized she was teasing him, and it grew with each word.

“But more  _ importantly _ , I’m going to spend so much time with my boyfriend he’s going to get sick of me--”

“Not likely.”

Anna smiled and held her arms out to him. He came to her, wrapping his arms tightly around her waist once more, and she pressed a kiss into his hair. “And then we’ll make up the rest of it as we go along.”

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU jilly/frozenwritingcorner for helping me turn this chapter from bare bones to something worth reading, and thank you gabi/gabiwnomagic for your feedback and encouragement and for sketching glasses kristoff for me because I NEEDED THAT


	7. a tragedy in four acts

**june 29th**

“One of these days,” Kristoff gasped out as Anna pressed another kiss to that sensitive spot under his jaw, “when I don’t have to go to work, I’m going to take you on a  _ real  _ date.”

“Well, since you have  _ two _ days in a  _ row _ this time,” she said, moving from where she was sitting beside him on the floor to straddle his lap, “we can spend one doing this, and one actually leaving your apartment for once.”

He let his head loll back against the sofa behind him as her hands slipped under the hem of his shirt, her nails scratching lightly over his chest as she lavished her attention and her tongue on his collarbone, and then her phone started buzzing insistently on the coffee table, and she leaned back to grab it, one hand still under his shirt.

Kristoff raised his head to look at her, one eyebrow raised, and she gave him a distracted kiss just to the left of his mouth. “Sorry, it’s just-- Honey told me she’d text me when-- and she just-- holy _fuck_. I logged in to my bank and...it’s really there!”  
She turned to him, eyes wide. “I just got my paycheck. I, like...have money?”

Kristoff squinted at the screen for a moment before giving up and reaching for his glasses where Anna had pulled them off and set them on the coffee table. He slid them over his nose and looked again, blinking hard to make sure he wasn’t suddenly experiencing some new vision problem that made extra zeroes appear. “That’s-- holy  _ shit _ .”

“What am I, like...supposed to  _ do _ with it?” she asked, looking at him as if he somehow had the answers. 

“Whatever you want,” he said, slipping his arms around her waist and tugging her close to him again. “You earned it.”

“But I don’t know what I want,” Anna said, biting her lip as she continued to study the phone screen.

“You could buy a bunch of fancy shoes,” he said, pressing a little kiss to her cheek. “Or enough chocolate to fill your fridge,” he added, pressing another to her temple. “Or go on vacation”-- one on her neck-- “or just get it all in cash and take a bath in it”-- one against her lips as she turned to him with a laugh.

“I mean,” she said, kissing the tip of his nose, “I know I owe Elsa a ton of money. And I can pay off my credit card, or student loans, or just, y’know, save it in case I never book another job again.”

“You’ll get a ton of other jobs. I’m surprised they haven’t beaten down your door already.”

Anna cupped his jaw in her hands, her eyes soft. “What if I want to spend some of it on you? Will that bother you?”

He considered it for a long moment, his hands absentmindedly skating up and down her sides. She made a contented sound, almost like purring, and pressed her forehead against his. “I don’t think it would,” he said at last, “as long as it wasn’t something big.”

“What if I wanted to take you on vacation with me or something?”

“That would be okay, since it would be something for you, too. But I still wouldn’t want you to pay for all of it.”

“So big things are okay if they’re kind of for both of us?”

“Mhmm,” he said, wondering if he would regret it when he saw a new idea spark in her eye.

“Can I buy you a new sofa so we don’t have to make out on the floor anymore?”

“I mean, we can go to the bedroom if you want--”

“We  _ could _ , but Sven’s going to be back from the grocery in like ten minutes, and he’ll be like, ‘ _ Seriously _ , guys, even rabbits are judging you at this point’, and he doesn’t even know about what we did before he got up.”

Kristoff couldn’t help but laugh at her impression of his roommate. “That’s not how you do his voice at all, it’s more like ‘guys, seriously, in front of my  _ salad _ \--’”

“So this is the secret of how you get a pretty girl to kiss you, Bjorgman,” came the real Sven’s voice from the door, “you have to pretend to be me.”

Anna held back a giggle at Kristoff’s reddening face. “Hey, Sven, how do you feel about a trip to IKEA?”

And that was how, three hours later, they found themselves staring, half-relieved and half-amused, at Sven as he sprawled out on a dark gray sofa in the middle of the showroom. “This is it, guys,” he said, his eyes heavy-lidded as he let out a contented sigh. “This is our sofa. Perfect length, perfect width, perfect ratio of sink to support...truly a dream come true. Thank you, Anna, for fucking off to Romania for six weeks and earning the money to buy this, because god knows we never would have gotten around to it ourselves.”

“You’re welcome,” she said, reaching out to affectionately ruffle his hair.

“Just promise me one thing,” he said, suddenly solemn as he looked up at her.

“Anything.”

“You and Bjorgman had better not ruin this for me-- don’t make that face, Kris, you know exactly what I’m talking about.”

* * *

**july 4th**

They had  _ meant _ to go see the fireworks, really; he’d gotten in the shower right after getting off work and texted Anna that he was leaving the key under the doormat in case she got done filming her last scene early.

And then he’d heard the front door open and called out a greeting from the bathroom, where he’d just gotten the water running, and then he heard something unzipping and turned to see Anna pulling her hair down, and she’d smiled sweetly and said, “I came straight from work. Mind if I join you?” and  _ really _ , how was he supposed to say no to that?

And then they’d both needed to dry their hair, and he didn’t have a blow dryer, so they decided air drying was fine, and they didn’t want to get their clothes damp, and if they were lying around naked  _ anyway _ they might as well make the most of it.

And then-- well, there wasn’t really an excuse after that point, really; they’d only gotten dressed long enough to go sit on the new sofa and watch the fireworks on TV, but then it was taking forever to get dark wherever these fireworks were happening, so Anna had gone into the kitchen to start making sandwiches for dinner and then Kristoff had come in to help her and then she’d sat on the countertop and pressed little kisses to his face whenever he got too close and he’d smelled his soap on her again and kissed her back and then she’d just wrapped her legs around his waist and what could he do but carry her back to his room?

And by then they really had worked up quite an appetite, and so they spread a quilt on the living room floor and ate the sandwiches there and called it a picnic, and Sven had come in to see Anna fast asleep on Kristoff’s chest and shaken his head.

“Just tell me this one thing, Bjorgman. Tell me you didn’t desecrate my new sofa.”

  
  


* * *

**july 27**

Anna had at last settled on one big, exciting purchase after deciding it was, for the most part, a practical choice. “I mean,” she’d said to Elsa as they’d meandered through the used car lot, “I can’t spend the rest of my life asking you and Kris to give me rides places. And I hate waiting for an Uber.”

That was how she’d ended up becoming the second owner of a six year old SUV that she’d paid for upfront, looking so proud that Elsa had insisted on taking her picture to commemorate the moment. “You’re a real grown-up now,” she’d said, misty-eyed even though she was teasing. “So what’s the first thing you’re going to do?”

“Go to Disneyland,” she had said as she signed the last paper with a flourish.

Elsa had laughed, but it turned out Anna wasn’t kidding, which was how she found herself riding in the backseat of the SUV between Kristoff and Honey. “Sven gets carsick,” Anna had lied, “and I think you and Honey will get along just  _ great _ . You don’t mind, do you? I’ll buy you a churro if you do.”

She had minded at first, and then she’d finally met this great friend Anna had been gushing about ever since coming back to LA. “Elsa Arendelle,” she’d said, holding out a hand to the woman with the shiniest hair she’d ever seen.

“Honeymaren Nattura,” the woman had breathed, “but you can call me Honey. Um-- that’s not a line, I swear, it’s just-- um-- my name. Like I just said. Sorry.”

Kristoff sat behind Anna since she had to scoot her seat nearly as far up as it would go in order to reach the pedals, so he had at least some semblance of legroom; ever the gentleman, though, he did his best to keep to his own seat, nearly leaning against the car door to avoid making Elsa uncomfortable. 

That wasn’t the real problem, though; the real issue was that even though Anna insisted on having an 80s music singalong the whole way to Anaheim, she couldn’t focus on anything but Honey’s little laughs each time Sven’s voice cracked or the smell of her jasmine perfume or the way sometimes when Anna took a turn too sharply their knees brushed together.

And then somewhere along the way Sven had wandered off, muttering something about eating his way through the park, and the rest of them had gone to ride Space Mountain. Anna had screamed like she was dying the whole time, clinging to Kristoff’s arm, and then immediately turned to the rest of them the moment she’d stepped out of the car and said, “Let’s go again!”

Kristoff, who had apparently decided the screaming was worth having Anna look up at him afterward with adoration in her eyes-- “how do you not get  _ scared _ ”,  _ god _ they were disgusting sometimes-- readily agreed, but Elsa and Honey said simultaneously, “I’m good.”

They had glanced at each other then, eyes filled with amusement and nerves, and before they could say anything else, Anna and Kristoff had disappeared, the former with a wink and a wave that Elsa pretended not to see. 

“Um,” she said awkwardly, “what do you think you want to do? I mean-- not that we have to do something together--”

“No-- no, I’d like to,” Honey said hastily. “As long as you don’t mind, I mean.”

“We could find Sven, I guess,” she said half-heartedly, relieved when Honey shook her head.

“I, um, actually-- maybe this is weird, but I’m not actually originally from here. So, like, I’ve been to this park once before, but I’ve never been to the other one. What’s it called?”

“California Adventure?”

“Yeah! Anna said our tickets can go there too, right?”

Elsa nodded. “Yeah. And I always liked that one better anyway.”

A bright, beautiful smile unfolded on Honey’s face. “Then what are we waiting for?”

A silence settled between them, not quite as awkward as before; eventually Honey hesitantly asked, “So, um...I hope this isn’t, like, rude, but I do hair sometimes too so I was just wondering-- is yours, like, naturally that color?”

“Yeah, actually. My dad’s parents were Norwegian, so we think that’s where it came from.”

“You’re lucky. You have no idea how many clients I get asking me to help them go platinum. And it like, really suits you. It’s, um, it’s beautiful.”

“Thank you,” Elsa said, feeling her cheeks redden. “I, um, I think your hair is really beautiful, too.”

It was still awkward between them at first, but then they’d started giggling about something inane while they were in line waiting to buy cotton candy, and then they had bonded over disaster-prone little sibling stories, and then they had found themselves riding the Ferris wheel, and even though she’d ridden it a million times Elsa suddenly found herself nervous. Honey noticed and slid her fingers to the middle of the seat, looking as bashful as she had at the beginning of the afternoon. “We’re good. It’s not that high.”

Elsa let her own fingers slide over until their hands were just barely overlapping, and then they’d both looked away, neither of them daring to say anything-- but neither of them moved until the ride came to a stop again.

On the ride home, they both dozed off, leaning against each other in the backseat, and at a red light Anna had glanced in the rearview mirror and reached back to give Kristoff a fist bump. 

They dropped Honey off first, and Anna, for once, kept her mouth shut even when Elsa slipped out of the car with her so they could exchange phone numbers in relative privacy, though she  _ was _ unable to resist waggling her eyebrows at her older sister once they’d driven off. Elsa just covered her face with her hands, pretending to groan while really she was trying to hide the smile that had been aching to burst out of her all day.

Anna dropped her off next. “I’ll probably be back in around an hour, after I drop these guys off,” she’d said cheerfully, which they all knew was a lie and let go anyway. 

The moment they set foot in Kristoff and Sven’s apartment, Sven flopped onto the sofa with a sigh.

“You didn’t even do hardly anything!” Anna protested.

“Eating that much food should count as a workout. I’m just sleeping here.”

He nestled back in the sofa cushions, then suddenly bolted upright, fear in his eyes. “Wait-- it’s still safe to sleep here, right? You haven’t--”

“ _ No _ !”

* * *

**august 17**

For Kristoff’s last weekend before classes started again, he and Anna made the four hour drive to their hometown, knowing it would be a while before either of them had the time again.

There was also the fact that he’d accidentally let their relationship slip to his mother a few weeks before, and she’d been so excited about it ever since that finally Kristoff had caved and promised to bring Anna with him for a visit. 

They’d both been greeted at the end of the driveway with squeals of delight and massive, rib-cracking hugs. “Anna, honey, you’re even prettier than I remembered!” Kristoff’s mother squealed, reaching up to cup her face in her hands. “No wonder Krissy finally got his act together and asked you out!”

“ _ Mom _ !” Kristoff said despairingly, his face turning red, but before he could protest further, Anna shook her head emphatically.

“No, Mrs. Bjorgman,” she said with a bright smile, “I was the one who asked him out, really. And I just wish I’d gotten around to doing it sooner.”

That earned her a big, smacking kiss on the cheek and an extra helping of lasagna at dinner. Kristoff just leaned back in his chair and watched her chattering happily away with his parents and younger siblings, squeezing her hand under the table as she told them all about her time in Romania and what it was like to be an actress, and feeling his smile grow as she insisted that really she didn’t want to talk about herself, that she wanted to hear all about  _ them _ and what they were learning about in school and where they were going to college and when exactly his littlest sister had gotten so  _ tall _ .

They spent the night on the pull-out sofa in the living room; Anna had forgotten pajamas, and Kristoff’s mother had helpfully pulled out some of his old sweatpants and a t-shirt for her from his wardrobe.

“You forgot to pack them on purpose, didn’t you?” he asked as Anna snuggled back against his chest.

“Oh, one hundred percent,” she said cheerfully as he dropped his arm over her waist. “If I keep stealing the clothes that still fit you, you’re going to be running around LA naked before long. Not that  _ I’d  _ complain about that.”

He almost told her then, with her nestled in his arms and still interlacing her fingers with his so they could be just a little bit closer, but by the time he got up the nerve her breathing was already steady and even, and he didn’t have the heart to disturb her. Instead he pressed a kiss to the top of her head and thought it to himself,  _ I love you _ , and even just thinking about it made something ignite in his chest.

The next morning when they’d loaded up the car, Anna hugged each of his siblings and insisted they all call sometime to keep her updated on how the new school year was going, while Kristoff leaned down to hug his mother goodbye.

She’d squeezed him even tighter than normal and whispered, “Don’t let her go this time, baby.”

“I won’t, Ma. I promise.”

They’d come in his car this time, which he really had insisted upon only because the gap between the front seats wasn’t  _ quite _ so wide, so it was much easier to reach over and hold Anna’s hand when traffic was too bad. Even after spending the weekend-- and, honestly, the whole summer-- together, the conversation still flowed easily between them, Anna asking about what his classes would be like and Kristoff asking about her next auditions, teasing each other about silly things; and sometimes they were just quiet in the best way, the air between them warmed by more than the summer sun. 

And then they were back in LA, and he didn’t even have to ask whether she wanted to go to her apartment; he just drove to his own, and before she could open the car door he was there, slipping his hands under her and scooping her up.

She laughed and threw her arms around his neck, pressing a kiss to his cheek before reaching out to press the right button in the elevator. “What’s this for?”

“Because,” he said, wishing he could work up the nerve again to finish the sentence, but by the way she looked at him, her eyes softer and bluer than he’d ever seen them, he had a feeling she knew exactly what he meant.

And then they were inside, and what was the point in going to his room when Sven wasn’t home yet, and they had  _ promised  _ but it really  _ was  _ a very comfortable sofa and Anna was wearing a little sundress that came off with just one little tug and then she was on his lap and under his shirt and against his mouth and nothing mattered but the way she sighed against his skin and the way that he loved her so much and so easy he knew that it really had been inevitable, just like she had said at the beginning.

Anna, at least, had the forethought to tug a blanket over them afterwards, even though they had made each other promise not to fall asleep; she was still asleep on his chest when he was awoken by the door creaking open and the sound of a heavy sigh.

“Goddammit. Whatever. I was kind of starting to miss sitting on the floor, anyway.”

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you jilly for teaching me about disneyland bc i have never even been to california LOL


	8. firsts

Anna was getting antsy.

Filming had wrapped way back at the beginning of July; there was a lull now until the trailer would be released at the beginning of October, and then slowly interviews would trickle in, talk show appearances if she was lucky; then the movie would drop, and if it went well she’d probably get offers of other jobs or at minimum asked to be on  _ more _ shows, and if it failed-- well. She’d taken a good, hard look at her options back in May after the tampon commercial had first come out, when she’d had to wonder if going semi-viral on Twitter was the height of her stardom. The company wanted her back, wanted to make a whole series of ads featuring her and capitalizing on the traction the first commercial had gotten, but she had her limits. 

She’d asked Sven semi-casually what it took to be a bank teller and quickly scratched that off her list; she’d never had a head for numbers. The only math classes she’d ever done well in were the ones in high school where she got to sit beside Kristoff and pass him notes asking for help, so that ruled out most of the jobs Google said were easy to get into. She could go back for a master’s in teaching and try to be a drama teacher, but while she’d played a very good Anna Leonowens in a community theater production of  _ The King and I _ , she’d never really had a knack for  _ actual _ teaching of any kind. There was always starting from scratch in college, but even the thought sent a shudder down her spine.

She’d waitressed her way through college and done well enough at it; maybe she’d do the opposite of the old stereotype and be an actress  _ before _ waiting tables. 

As much as she’d tried to hide her worries from her sister, Elsa had taken notice of the fact that Anna’s room-- and, in fact, the whole apartment-- was suddenly much cleaner than normal. “You don’t have to hang around here all day,” Elsa had said one night as they sat down to dinner together. “And you know you can talk to me if you’re feeling stressed, right?”

“But I  _ don’t _ hang around here all day,” Anna protested, and it was true. It was just that there was so  _ much _ time to fill now that Kristoff was at school or work most of the time, and Honey was working on two different sets at once, and Elsa and Sven had real grown-up jobs, and her friends from college in the area had, by and large, moved on to 9-to-5s as well. So she spent her mornings tidying the apartment, scrolling through casting calls, going on long runs, checking the audition postings once again just in case-- and then she’d look at the clock and see it was only eleven and feel a sense of dread rising in her, settling a little more heavily on her heart every day. 

She tried not to burden Kristoff with it; she’d taken the once-seemingly endless days full of pillow talk and lazy kisses and picnics on the living room floor for granted, and now when she saw him he was usually only awake for a couple of hours at a time, and even then he was always studying or trying to catch up on errands or just too exhausted to do anything but hold her.

He’d tried to apologize for it once at the beginning when he’d accidentally dozed off mid-conversation as they sat together on the sofa, but Anna had shaken her head and shushed him before he could even finish saying “sorry”.

“Look at me, Kris,” she’d said, cupping his jaw in her hands. “I don’t ever want you to feel like you have to apologize to me for working hard.”

“I just feel bad,” he had replied, eyebrows pulling together in a frown. “I want to take you out and stuff like you deserve, but here I am falling asleep before you can even finish telling me about your day. I’m really sorry, Anna, you deserve better and--”

She had leaned in and kissed him, not pulling away until he relaxed against her. “Don’t say that, baby,” she’d said, and he’d sucked in a little breath; she hadn’t called him that before. “You’re the best thing in my life.”

_ And I love you _ , she’d been tempted to add, especially when he’d tugged her onto his lap and started kissing his way up her neck, the way that made her clutch at his shirt and moan his name every time, but then he’d reached her mouth, and she figured maybe she’d just show him instead of saying it out loud.

But by the end of September, with the trailer’s release only a week away, she was beginning to reach a breaking point; it wasn’t anyone’s fault but her own for picking such a useless job with so much downtime when you weren’t good enough at it to stay booked, which she apparently  _ wasn’t _ . It was a Saturday night, and Kristoff had a rare day off on Sunday, and they’d made plans to go out for brunch in the morning before driving up to a stretch of coastline Kristoff had assured her was deserted, with a crooked little smile that sent shivers up her spine. 

He was asleep next to her now in his bed; she had been nestled against him, her nose buried in the crook of his neck, but no matter how many deep breaths she took, sleep continued to evade her, and so she had rolled away, careful not to disturb him. 

She was tempted to reach out and trace her fingers over the lines of his face, set her palm on his cheek and lean in to kiss him, but he looked so peaceful, without even the trace of a frown for the first time in weeks, that it made something in her chest ache, and so she slipped out of bed and tiptoed into the hall.

She wasn’t sure what she was going to do at first; Sven was away at some conference, so at least she didn’t have to worry about waking him. She considered flicking the TV on and watching late-night cop shows on mute and making up her own dialogues the way she and Elsa had done when they were kids first learning to rebel in their own little ways. But she’d been doing stupid, inane things like that for so  _ long _ , just trying to pass the time; she felt utterly useless, so much so that she was starting to feel an itch deep in her bones, a desperation to do  _ something _ , anything that made her feel like she was contributing to the world around her. 

Her eyes lighted on the kitchen, an idea sparking in her mind; she knew Sven and Kristoff both liked to cook, so the cabinets were overflowing, but neither of them really had much patience for organization, and so half the time they spent in the kitchen was wasted shuffling through drawers and shelves and making an even bigger mess. Maybe she was a washed up has-been (more like never-was) at twenty-four and maybe her boyfriend was a hero who would save tons of baby animals someday, but by god, at least she could do this. 

She started with the bottom shelves in the cabinets, thinking maybe she’d just straighten those out and crawl back into bed, but then she realized that being taller than five foot three meant you could actually make use of the rest of the space, and so she crawled onto the counter and started pulling everything out; if she was going to do this, she should at least do it well. 

She had the top two shelves alphabetized in both cabinets and was working on the lower ones— that was the hard part, these she had sorted by usefulness and had had to consider what someone who actually knew how to cook would use— when he heard footsteps coming up the hall.

She kept her focus on the little piles around her, hoping Kristoff would just go to the bathroom and crawl back to bed; he’d been exhausted enough that he probably wouldn’t even notice she wasn’t there with him. 

She realized it was fruitless when she heard his footsteps on the linoleum and heard a heavy sigh. “Anna, what the hell are you doing?”

She slipped the rosemary next to the garlic salt; probably those got used in the same thing anyway. Right? “Couldn’t sleep. Figured I might as well start pulling my weight around here since I basically live here half the time.”

“Come back to bed.”

She bit her lip and ignored him, turning back to the trickiest little pile: one of them— Sven, most likely— apparently had a penchant for collecting different colors of salt, and she had no idea what any of them did. 

“Anna.”

He had come up behind her now and put his hand on her back; she turned at last to look at him and met his confused gaze for only a moment before ducking away again. “I‘ll redo it if you don’t like it.”

He just stood there for a long moment, wearing only his boxers and his glasses; they hung just barely lopsided, one of the arms caught up on a little snarl in his sleep-mussed hair. “It’s three in the morning.”

“Well, I really didn’t do anything all day, so—“

“Anna. You need to sleep. You’re going to be too tired to do anything tomorrow, and we’ve been planning this all week.”

“I’m  _ fine _ ,” she huffed out a little more forcefully than she had meant to and turned quickly back to the cabinet to hide the tears of shame that sprung up almost immediately in her eyes. 

“Fine,” he said after a stunned moment of silence. “Fine. Then I’ll wait up for you until you’re ready to tell me what’s really going on.”

“But you worked all day, you’re—“

“I’m fine,” he said, and though he didn’t raise his voice, the words still stung. Wasn’t that why she was  _ doing _ this, trying to make his life a little bit easier, and here she was just—

_ No,  _ a nasty, stubborn little voice whispered in the back of her mind.  _ He doesn’t mean it. He’ll sit up for a minute and then go back to bed, and then in the morning he’ll thank you for helping him out so much, tell you he’s relieved you finally fucking  _ did _ something, you useless sack of shit. _

She turned back to her shelving with renewed vigor, lining each cap up nearly until the cabinets were filled with perfectly organized, colorful rows of plastic and glass, as cheerful as any supermarket display. 

But somehow, she didn’t feel any better. 

She dared to peek over her shoulder; Kristoff was still there, sitting on the couch and watching infomercials in a bid to stay awake. As she watched, his head began to loll to the side; he suddenly pinched his own wrist and jolted upright again. 

Suddenly she couldn’t get down and back over to him fast enough. She started to clamber onto his lap out of habit, but then he turned and looked to her with such exhaustion in her eyes she sat next to him instead, pulling her knees up to her chest and hugging them tightly. 

“You need sleep, Kris,” she said, doing her best to keep that stupid little wobble out of her voice. 

“Not as much as I need to know you’re okay.”

The words nearly knocked the wind out of her. “I— I— really, I’m fine.”

“People who are fine don’t sort out other people’s kitchens at three in the morning.”

“I just wanted to help,” she said, her voice small, and a little frown appeared on his forehead. 

“Help with...what?”

“Just— stuff. I’m— I’m sorry I woke you up, really, but I promise it’s not important, we can talk about it in the morning if you—“

“Anna, baby, I’m not even gonna be able to sleep until I know what the fuck is going on. You’re scaring me,” he said, and suddenly she was crying and he was leaning over and pulling her into his arms and rocking her like she was a child as she sobbed into his bare shoulder.

“I didn’t mean to start a fight with you,” she choked out.

“Is this a fight?” he asked, sounding genuinely worried. 

“I don’t know. I don’t want it to be.”

“Okay,” he said, kissing her forehead, “it’s not a fight. But please,  _ please _ just tell me what’s wrong.”

She took a deep, shuddering breath. “I— I just feel so  _ useless _ , I just— since I finished the movie I just sit around all day waiting for something to happen while you’re working so hard at school and the café, and Elsa works too and so does everyone else, and you’re all  _ good _ at what you do and— and you  _ help  _ people, and like you’re gonna take care of animals and stuff and meanwhile my job is just standing around saying the same thing over and over again in front of a camera and I just— I just…”

She trailed off, struggling to put it all into words in a way that didn’t make her feel even more pathetic. “I just...I couldn’t sleep because I felt so  _ useless _ . I wanted to do something to help you instead of just wasting even more time, because you work so hard and you’re so exhausted and— and now I’m just making everything worse, and I’m so,  _ so  _ sorry.”

He was quiet for a long time, long enough that the tears on her cheeks had dried; still he held her close. She had shifted to sit beside him, her legs thrown over his lap as she leaned against his shoulder; he had one arm thrown over her, keeping her tucked against him, and she held his other hand in both of her own, endlessly tracing the lines of his palm. 

“Have I done anything,” he asked at last, his voice unsure, “to make you feel like this?”

“ _ No.  _ Never. None of you, it’s— it’s just me being stupid.”

He was quiet again for a moment. When he spoke again it was slowly, like he was terrified he would say the wrong thing. 

“You’re not stupid, Anna. Or useless. This is just— this is part of life sometimes. The, like, in between shit. I don’t know. And I don’t— I don’t know what I can do to make it better. But I...care about you, whether you’ve got a part you’re doing at the moment or not. And if you decide this is too much and you wanna try another job, then I’m here for you. And if you stick with it, then I’m here for you, too. I just— I don’t know. I really don’t. I don’t think any of that even helped.”

“It did,” she said quickly, tears threatening to spill over again. “It does— I’m so sorry, Kris, really, that I woke you up for this.”

“It’s okay. I’m glad you did if it meant getting it out of your system. Just— do me a favor?”

“Anything. God, I owe you lots of them, I feel like I’m always the one having a crisis and you’re—“

He put a gentle finger over her lips. “Two favors. One, stop being so hard on yourself, okay? You’ve been going through a lot of new stuff this year. It’s okay to freak out about it sometimes. And two—“

He kissed the tip of her nose, the way that always made her crack a smile, even now. “ _ Please _ just tell me next time something is upsetting you instead of holding it in. Preferably at a reasonable hour of the day, yeah?”

She nodded sheepishly. “I will. I promise. Will you— will you please go back to bed now? I’m worried about you.”

“Will you go with me?”

She nodded again, and then suddenly he was scooping her up bridal style and carrying her back to bed. He laid her down gently and pulled the sheets over her shoulders before crawling in himself, pulling her back against his chest and draping his arm over her waist.

“Good night, Kris,” she whispered, lacing her fingers through his. 

“Good night, Anna.”

* * *

When the alarm went off the next morning, Kristoff woke with a heavy sigh beneath her; somehow during the night she had sprawled out over him, one arm thrown over his chest like she’d been trying to shield him from something, while her face was tucked against his neck. As he reached with the arm that wasn’t holding her close to slap the alarm clock off, she took advantage of the proximity to start pressing little kisses against his throat, each one lingering longer and longer. He was already breathing hard by the time he had manage to turn off the insistent beeping.

“I’m sorry again for waking you up in the middle of the night,” Anna said, the words ghosting over his skin; she raised up slightly so she could trail kisses down to his chest, feeling his skin heat beneath her touch.

“It’s fine, baby,” he breathed, but she shook her head as she sat up, moving to kneel over his hips so she could lean down and attend to the other side of his neck. He groaned and slid his hands up the back of her thighs, his fingers pressing gently against the soft flesh there, and then harder as she kissed the spot under his jaw and his hips bucked up against her.

“Let me make it up to you,” Anna murmured, one hand sliding down his torso to settle at the edge of his boxers, her nails barely scratching over the trail of coarse hair that led to his navel, hesitating just in case he still hadn’t forgiven her fully.

Kristoff raised up on his elbows to capture her mouth with his own, the kiss growing needier as her hand slipped lower, sliding beneath the fabric so her fingers could curl around him, stroking languidly. He pulled away just long enough to whisper, “If you insist.”

* * *

They decided to forgo going out for brunch; neither of them really felt like talking to other people today, even for a moment. She had nearly forgotten what it felt like to have a whole day to just themselves, hour and hours at a stretch to be spent holding and being held and trading little whispered secrets and promises and praise, each sweet word paired with a kiss or caress or little silly sigh. She was drunk on Kristoff and the dark of his eyes and the heat of his hands and the press of his lips, soaked in love as if it were honey, so much so that she felt heavy with it sometimes, like all of it was constantly on the verge of spilling out and sweeping her away, and  _ god _ , still every day it kept growing in her, filling her chest with so much warmth it felt like she had swallowed a star; she wondered sometimes if people could see it, if they knew. Kristoff had to, she thought, had to see it in her eyes and know she adored him, could probably see it now as she came into the kitchen and perched on the edge of the counter as had become her habit, swinging her legs and watching him make a batch of pancakes with those quick, clever hands that always knew exactly how she needed to be touched.

He smiled softly in greeting as he poured batter into the pan and came over to her the moment he was finished, wrapping his arms around her waist and tucking his chin over her shoulder. Her heart did a funny little flip when she noticed the ends of his hair were still damp, falling into slight curls; she ran her hands through them, feeling a sudden deep sense of contentment.

“You know,” Kristoff said playfully, his arms tightening slightly around her middle, “it was a lot easier to mix these up now that I knew where to find the vanilla.”

“I love you,” she said, the words popping out in response like they just couldn’t be kept in any more. “Kind of a lot, actually.”

His fingers had been tracing idle circles on her back, but they stilled suddenly; she heard him suck in a breath and hold it. She bit her lip, too nervous to break the silence, as if she stood on some great precipice and even the carelessly blown breath of a misspoken word might be enough to send her tumbling over the edge.

“Say it again,” he whispered, his fingers curling into the back of her shirt--  _ his _ shirt, really, another one she’d stolen from his drawer, coveting any opportunity to be close to him even in the smallest of ways.

Anna turned her head and kissed his temple. “I love you, Kristoff Bjorgman. And I think that pancake is going to burn.”

“Forget the pancake,” he breathed, pulling back so he could look at her, wonder in his eyes. “I-- you-- do you mean it?”

She nodded, feeling her heart begin to pound, so hard she could have sworn she could hear it, and he let out a sudden whoop of joy, surging forward to hug her again and pull her close to his chest, lifting her straight off the counter. Anna let out a gasp of surprise and fisted her hands in his shirt instinctively, her legs wrapping around his waist just in time.

“I love you, too,” he said, and she was suddenly glad he was holding her because otherwise she might have fainted and fallen to the floor at the sound of it. “I love you  _ so _ much, Anna, I-- I just--”

The smoke alarm began to go off. He turned quickly to the stove and then froze, unsure what to do with his hands otherwise occupied; Anna, luckily, had the sense to snatch the handle of the pan and slide it over into the sink, which, thanks to Kristoff’s habit of washing as he cooked, was already full of soapy water.

The incessant beeping stopped after a moment, and they both let out a sigh of relief; Kristoff’s arms loosened around her, though he still held her close to his chest, and Anna realized he had been holding on to her so tightly it was starting to hurt, as if his first instinct in a moment of potential danger had been to protect her in whatever way he could. She cupped his jaw in her hands and leaned down to kiss his forehead.

“That’s not how I really imagined that would go,” he muttered, a flush beginning to creep over his cheeks. “The, uh, the making you breakfast thing. And the telling you I loved you part, too.”

Anna laughed and patted his shoulder as he set her back on the ground. “We can say it again and pretend it’s the first time.”

“No,” he said with a lopsided grin, “no, I-- I was so worried about saying it first and whether or not you’d say it back or whatever, and now...I guess it’s a relief to know I can tell you whenever I want.”

“Tell me what?” she said sweetly, batting her eyelashes.

“That I love you. So much. And that I’m so glad you love me, even when I burn your breakfast.”

“And I’m glad you love me even when I ransack your kitchen at three in the morning.”

He leaned down and kissed her then, his fingers just barely cupping her cheek, and his lips were so tender against hers she almost thought she would cry, but instead she kissed him back, knowing that this would be a moment she would treasure for a long, long time.

They broke apart only when her stomach growled in protest; Kristoff blushed again as he looked down at her. “Oh, fuck, I really am sorry about breakfast.”

“That’s okay. There’s always McDonald’s.”

Anna had just opened her mouth to ask if he still loved McGriddles even though they were disgusting when her phone went off on the table behind her. Kristoff recognized the ringtone by now, the one that she hadn’t been hearing enough lately. “It’s your agent— get it, I’ll grab our stuff.”

She scrambled for the phone. “Hey Sam— yeah— good morning to you too. What’s going on?”

She listened to his hurried explanation in stunned silence, feeling her breath speed up with every word. When at last Sam asked what she thought, she hardly knew where to begin.

“I— you’re serious, they want  _ me _ ?”

“Yes. They’ve been looking everywhere, heard about the Netflix movie, pulled some strings and saw the first edit and called me this morning insisting they want to see you by the end of the week.”

“I— and it’s seriously for, like— for—“

“Seriously, Anna,” he said, and she could hear the smile in his voice. “Come by my office tomorrow, and I’ll get you everything you need for the audition, okay? Proud of you, kid. I know you’ll nail it.”

She set the phone down, her mind reeling. “Is everything okay?” Kristoff asked, sounding suddenly far away. 

She turned to face him, her voice unsteady. “I— I don’t have it yet— but they— they want me for a part, Kris. A big one.”

  
  



	9. raindrops

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the delay, i feel like this one is kind of a mess and i was trying to make it better jfdaskl;fjdas;

They both agreed it was for the best that Kristoff drove to the beach, even though they were in Anna’s car; she was bursting with excitement, which only exacerbated her habit of talking with her hands.

He kept his own hands firmly on the wheel as she bounced on in the passenger seat. “So they want me to be her, which like-- oh my _god_ , I grew up watching that movie and like...oh my god! I used to just dance around the living room and sing the songs over and over again and drive Elsa _crazy_ , but it was only fair because she was into Star Wars and made me do lightsaber battles with her, but like-- oh my _god_ , I always wanted to _be_ her, and now maybe I _will_ be--”

“Hang on,” Kristoff cut in as he reached over to squeeze one of her flailing hands at a red light. “This is like, the Anastasia who died in the Russian Revolution? This is like, a little kid movie?”

“Well, yeah. In this version, like, her family dies I guess, but it’s not onscreen or whatever, and she got away and just doesn’t know she-- _wait_ . Kristoff, you’ve never seen _Anastasia_?”

“Um...no?”

“Not even with your sisters?”

He shrugged. “I...maybe I have and just forgot.”

“Well, you’ll have to watch it with me now,” Anna said, settling back in her seat. “That way when this comes out, you can be like everyone else fighting on Twitter about live-action remakes and whether they’re better or worse.”

“I don’t have Twitter, remember?”

“I’ll make you one, just for this. It’s part of the millennial experience, Kristoff.”

“What is?”

“Fighting with someone on the internet by sending reality TV gifs back and forth.”

“Um...if you say so.”

They’d already been driving for forty minutes, and they were getting close to the little cutoff he had found once in college when he’d just needed to get in the car and _drive_ . He’d looked it up later, and the little beach it led to was technically public property, but he’d never once seen another soul out here. It was his favorite place to go when he needed to just _be_ , and Anna was the first person he was ever showing it to. It was odd, but he was somehow nervous about it, worried that maybe for some reason she wouldn’t like it.

He was carefully watching the road signs when he heard a little “oh!” and glanced over at Anna.

“What is it?”

“I think I just saw a raindrop.”

“But we live in LA, it never rains here til--”

She was right. Another raindrop plopped suddenly on the windshield, and Kristoff felt himself deflate as surely as if he were a balloon that had just met its untimely end.

“Sorry, Anna,” he sighed, “just let me find a good spot to pull over and turn aro--”

“What are you talking about? It hasn’t rained in _ages_ , I don’t mind at all.”

“But you wanted to swim, and we packed the picnic basket--”

“So? I can swim in the rain.”

He glanced at her again. “Seriously, Anna, you don’t have to--”

“It’s not a _have to_ . I _want_ to.” She reached over and squeezed his shoulder. “I’m not going to let a little shower ruin our day.”

It was quickly turning into more than just a little shower. As the rain picked up, he turned at last onto the cutoff and braked, not bothering to park. “Seriously, Anna, I--”

“Drive a little more. Onto the beach.”

He did so, holding back his questions. “Okay, now park.”

The moment he did so, she hopped out of the car and scurried to the back. “Anna!” he called after a moment of stunned surprise. “You’re going to get soaking wet!”

She had already opened the trunk; as he turned back to look at her, she cheerfully peeled off her t-shirt and tossed it up to him, leaving her in her bikini top and shorts. “Good thing I wore my swimsuit then, huh? Come back here and help me push the seats down.”

He did, and she pulled out the blanket they’d brought and spread it over the newly flat space in the back of the car. “See? Perfect! And less sand, too.”

She put one hand on his shoulder as she hopped on one foot, taking off her shoes. “Are you gonna swim with me, Kris?”

“It’s going to be even colder than normal with the rain.”

“Good thing you’re here to warm me up then,” she said as she succeeded in getting her other shoe off. “Come on!”

She took off running towards the water, a scream of delight tearing from her throat as the rain plastered her hair to her bare, freckled shoulders. She turned to wave back at him. “What are you waiting for?”

He followed after her, slowly, a wide grin on his face as he watched her run into the water, squealing when it splashed her ankles and she realized how cold it really was. “I warned you!” he called, but she only laughed. 

“Come on in, the water’s fine!”

Lightning flickered in the distance. “It’s about to storm, baby,” he called. “Come back!”

“Come and get me!”

He did, loping down towards the edge of the water, and she ran back out, meeting him halfway and throwing her arms around his neck. She was shivering, just a little, but when he pressed his hands against the small of her back, she sighed happily. “God, Kris, you’re so _warm_ ,” she said, nuzzling her nose against his neck. 

“You’ll be even warmer once you get back in the car,” he said, and then she took his hand in hers and they were running towards the car, laughter spilling from them as a crack of thunder sounded in the sky.

Once they were in the backseat of the car again, scooting back far enough that the few droplets of rain that were slipping in past the raised tailgate couldn’t reach them, he leaned against the side of the car as she snuggled up against him, her hair already soaking through his shirt. He pulled the picnic blanket up and draped it over her shoulders; she thanked him with a kiss before settling back against his side.

They sat in silence for a while, watching the rain and the waves as Anna warmed up against him, tucked under his arm. He was still trying to make sense of all that had happened in the last day, of this phone call about the big part and the fact that they’d almost fought and then realized neither of them wanted to and then, most importantly of all, that she’d said she loved him, and he’d said it back, and now at last he could say it whenever he wanted to instead of biting his tongue so it didn’t spill out while he was holding her or talking on the phone or just watching her being, well, _her_.

"I love you," he said, just to test the feel of it in his mouth once more, his heart beginning to pound; surely he'd imagined it, that she had ever said it at all--

"I love you, too," she said, tilting her chin up so she could kiss the underside of his jaw. "I love you _so much_ , Kristoff, and I love your freckles and your eyes and your nose and your _chest_ \--"

She shifted, straddling his lap so she could face him. "My chest?" he asked, amused.

"Yes," she said, pressing her hands against it and splaying her fingers out with a happy little sigh. "I love it when you pick me up or when you just hold me, and it just-- I just feel so _safe_ , and--"

He kissed her then, too overwhelmed for words, but Anna pulled away after only a moment, determined to continue her list. "And I love the way your hair gets all messy when you sleep, and I love how handsome you look when you wear your glasses, and--"

She paused for a moment to let out a little gasp as his lips slid down to her neck; when he reached her collarbone she let her head loll back. He slid his hands up her back, keeping her pressed close to him, and her eyes fluttered shut. "God-- I think I love your mouth the most-- or maybe your hands-- _fuck,_ Kris!" she gasped as without warning he pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the junction of her neck and shoulder, his tongue flicking over her skin.

Her hands started tugging at the hem of his shirt, and he leaned back just enough to pull it off with her help before capturing her mouth with his own. Her hips rolled languidly against him, and he moaned into her open mouth as he reached behind her to fumble with the knot keeping her bikini top on.

"I love you, too," he panted as he finally succeeded in tugging it off. "I-- everything about you, baby, it's all my favorite-- _you're_ my favorite--"

"And you're mine," she whispered, and then she kissed him again and at last he was starting to believe this was real.

He knew her body now, better than he knew his own; knew the spot between her breasts where she liked to be kissed because it made her feel worshipped, knew that feeling his fingers grasping her thighs as she sank down onto him made her shiver because it reminded her that he was nearly twice her size, knew that when she slid her hands into his hair and tugged his eager mouth down to the sensitive spot on her collarbone that she was close.

“I love you, Anna,” he said against her skin, and she came with a cry, her hands tightening in his hair as he thrust up into her one last time before he followed her over the edge.

He dragged his mouth down over her throat in a line of sloppy kisses before tucking his chin over her shoulder, pulling her close against his chest. Her hands slid out of his hair and settled behind his neck, her fingertips just barely skating over the sensitive skin there and somehow sending another jolt of need straight through him. Was there ever any end to this _wanting_? 

“Jesus, Kris,” she said, turning to press a kiss into his sweat-darkened hair, “I need you to fuck me in my car more often.”

Apparently, there wasn’t. He shifted her up off of him just enough that he could reach down and touch her, his slowly stroking fingers drawing a needy groan from the depths of her throat. He muttered against the reddened skin of her collarbone, “I’ve got time now.”

  
  


* * *

_How did the meeting with your agent go yesterday afternoon? Sorry, just realized I forgot to ask when you called last night._

_no worries i know u were tired, i was too so i forgot to say anything haha_

_but it was good! he gave me everything i need_

_including the sheet music😱_

_It’s a musical?_

_omg we rly have to find time to watch this movie together_

_yes but i havent sung much recently_

_nervous_

_I can help you practice if you want._

_omg_

_u do music stuff? how am i just now finding this out_

_Kind of. I’ll be home around 5 if you want to practice there._

_Or we can go to your place._

_urs is better_

_elsa having honey over for dinner 👀_

_so i kind of already told her i would spend the night with u...just in case_

_is that ok?_

_It’s more than ok. You don’t even have to ask._

_💕💕💕_

_ily!!_

_Love you too._

Anna was there right at five, practically vibrating with excitement as Kristoff opened the door. “I haven’t even sat down yet,” he teased as she burst through the door, her arms loaded with grocery bags.

“Sorry, sorry, I just couldn’t want to find out more about this musical gift you’ve been hiding from me!” she chirped, opening his fridge. “I brought stuff for dinner if that’s okay. And breakfast. Since you were at work or with me all the time the last few days, I figured you hadn’t had time to go to the grocery. And I got those carrot cake cupcakes Sven likes. I still feel bad about the sofa.”

He felt a swell of affection in his chest. “You didn’t have to do that,” he said, coming up behind her and pulling her into an embrace. “But thank you.”

“I wanted to do it,” she said, turning in his arms so she could rise up on her toes and kiss him. “You do so much for me, I just...I don’t know.”

He just held her for a long moment, his heart skipping a beat when she sighed in contentment and nestled her face against his shoulder. There was so much about loving her that he, well, _loved_ , but this-- just holding her, feeling the way her breath synchronize with his as the tension sank slowly out of her body, feeling himself relax as well and knowing it was all just because they were _together_ \-- well. It was difficult to imagine anything else ever making him happier.

“Love you,” he said softly, and she tightened her arms around his waist.

“Love you, love you, love you,” she said cheerfully before pulling away a little, still keeping her hands on his sides. “Are you still up for helping me practice? It’s okay if you’re too tired or need to study or something. But you might want to wear headphones if that’s the case, because the audition is this Friday, and I really _do_ need to practice, and I’m, well, _out_ of practice.”

Kristoff huffed out a laugh and took her hand, leading her to his room. “I’ve got time. No tests ‘til next week. No promises that I’ll actually be of help, though.”

Anna hopped a little with excitement as he opened the door. “Are you going to sing with me? Or do you have, like, a keyboard or something?”

“Or something.”

She hopped up onto the bed, sitting cross-legged in the middle of it as he went to his closet, already feeling nervous even before he turned around and showed her the guitar in his hands. She gasped in surprise, her hands flying up to cover her mouth. “Oh! I didn’t know you played!”

“I don’t, not really,” he said hastily as he sat on the edge of the bed.

“Well, you have your own guitar, so that has to count for something.”

He shrugged, fiddling awkwardly with the tuning pegs and plucking at the strings. “It’s just...I don’t know. My dad, uh, he taught me a little when I was younger, and then I had to do some kind of music class in college, and it kinda...it was relaxing, I guess. And then I found this one at a thrift store and just...got it on a whim. I, uh, I thought I would just, y’know, play for my mom some, I learned some songs for her birthday one year and...um…”

He felt a flush creeping up his cheeks, knowing he was rambling. “Anyway. So I don’t really play. But I can try for you.”

Anna’s eyes were soft as he looked at her over his shoulder. “Will you sing for me?”

His face only grew warmer. “I, uh, I-- Mom really likes Elvis, so that’s the only thing I know well enough to sing along to, and I know that’s kind of lame--”

“No, it’s not, really,” she said immediately, scooting forward so she could sit behind him, tucking her chin over his shoulder and sliding her arms around his waist. “Please, Kris?”

“Anna…”

“I love you,” she said sweetly, pressing a kiss just under his ear, and how could he say no after that?

“Fine,” he grumbled, and she scooted back so she could watch him, her eyes bright. “Um...what song?”

“You pick.”

He started strumming a few chords, wishing his heart would slow down a little. “I...I really...I’m not very good…”

She just rested her chin in her hands, smiling at him so broadly he thought his heart would burst. He could have gone on staring at her all day, the way the afternoon sunlight slanted through the window and illuminated her hair and brought out her freckles and made her eyes shine bluer than anything he’d ever seen-- but she was waiting for him, and he knew that for whatever reason this meant something to her, and so he cleared his throat and started to sing. 

“ _Wise men say…_ ”

His voice was shaking; he had to look away from her as he sang. He’d never performed for anyone besides his family, and even then he’d only been able to do it after secretly downing a shot of whiskey. 

He kept going, anyway, and after another line or two, he felt the bed shift and then the press of Anna’s cheek against his upper back as she snuggled against him. He stumbled for a moment, his heart and his voice stuttering, but as she pressed a kiss between his shoulderblades suddenly his nerves started to melt away.

“ _...for I can’t help falling in love with you,”_ he finished, strumming the final chord and realizing that at some point, his heart had finally slowed down.

Anna’s arms came over his shoulders as she embraced him, pressing a damp kiss against his cheek. “Thank you, Kris,” she sniffled, and he set the guitar down so he could turn and hug her back.

“Why are you crying, baby?” he teased gently as she swiped at her eyes with the sleeve of her sweatshirt-- _his_ sweatshirt, he realized suddenly, one that was so big on her it covered her hands. Had she really been wearing that all day? “Was it really that bad?”

“That was the sweetest thing that’s ever happened to me in my whole entire life,” she said, and he couldn’t help but lean down and kiss her, and then again on her forehead for good measure. 

“So where’s the music you need to practice? Your turn to sing for me.”

“It’s in my backpack,” she said, but made no move to lean down and get it from the floor, instead pressing a contented kiss against his cheek. 

He felt his heart jump, just as it always did, even now; somehow it always surprised him, the easy affection she gave him so freely, so happily, just because she _could_ , because she _wanted_ to, because as unbelievable as it seemed, she loved him. He held her close for another moment, just because _he_ could, and then said, a hint of regret in his voice, “If we keep just doing this all night, then you’ll never get to practice, and I know this audition is really important…”

Anna sighed and slipped out of his arms to crouch on the floor and pull out a folder full of sheet music. She spread it open on the bed and considered it all for a moment, her fingers dancing in the air just above it all. “They told me I can just pick whichever song I want to do for it, even if I’d rather do one of the other characters’ ones because they’re still finishing up a couple of new additions...hmm…”

She glanced up at him. “There’s tabs written up at the top. Can you play based on that?”

He nodded; though he’d downplayed it out of nervousness, he actually did play fairly regularly. It had started just for the class, but then he’d found himself pulling out the guitar and practicing whenever his major classes got to be too much, and then he’d find himself returning to his notes with a newfound sense of clarity. He’d gotten an A in that initial music class and been surprised, even though over the course of the semester he’d put in dozens of hours of practice. He still pulled it out of the closet whenever work or school got too overwhelming, though never when Anna was over or Sven was home; the only people who’d ever heard him play at all had been his professor and his family-- well, until now. 

Anna settled on a song and shifted the music towards him. “Do you think you can do this one?”

“If you don’t mind me making some mistakes, sure.”

He started strumming slowly, just sounding out the chords, then nodded resolutely. “Okay. Ready?”

She nodded, and he started playing through the song, nodding to give her her cue to come in, but instead of singing she flushed bright red and looked away. Kristoff raised his eyebrows and played the intro again, waiting for her to start, but she shook her head. He set guitar down and asked playfully, “What, you can make a movie for the whole world to see, but you can’t sing in front of your boyfriend?”

“It’s _different_ ,” she squeaked out, her cheeks only growing redder. “Your opinion _matters_.”

He huffed out a laugh, knowing that this gently teasing back-and-forth was the only way to coax her into doing it, even though inside his chest he suddenly felt so warm he just wanted to toss all the music aside and pull her back into his arms. “You made me sing first. It’s only fair, baby.”

“Okay, okay-- just-- do it again, okay? I promise I’ll actually sing this time.”

He started strumming again, and this time she did, though she had to look away. He did his best to hide the surprise he was feeling; he’d heard her sing back when she’d performed in school musicals, and she’d been good then, but now... _Jesus_. No wonder they wanted her for this part. 

When they finished the song, the last note still shimmering tremulously in the air, he tossed the guitar aside and leaned over to pull her into a hug, his arms only tightening when she let out a little yelp of surprise. “Was that okay?” she asked hopefully, her hands settling on his back.

“Anna…” he said, and for a moment he wasn’t quite sure what he wanted to say. He was so proud of her, how _good_ she was; how she managed to charm everyone she ever met, how much work she put into her performances, how every eye in the room landed on her the moment she stepped in-- and he knew in his heart that in the coming days there would only be more of all of that, more eyes focused on her, more people wanting a little piece of her, more of the world demanding she let a little bit of her light rub off on them.

And still, she cared what _he_ thought. 

“You’re going to nail this, baby,” he said and felt her melt a little against him. “You’re going to get this part and be a fucking _star_ , and I’m gonna be cheering you on the whole way.”

Whatever came next, whoever demanded something of her, whatever she demanded of _herself_ \-- he would be there, in the quiet moments and the loud, an anchor for her, as long as she wanted him to be the one she came home to, whether that was for only another week or for a lifetime.

And, if he was being honest, he was starting to hope it would be the latter.

  
  
  
  



	10. twits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> honestly have not proofread this even a little bit 
> 
> bye bye nonstop fluff

October dragged on, the only bright spot the easy afternoons and sweet mornings she spent with Kristoff on the few days a week he didn’t go to school by day and work at night. The studio that had been so excited to cast her in the  _ Anastasia  _ remake was dragging its heels, even when the trailer to the Netflix movie had dropped and immediately been a hit.

“This is normal,” her agent had reassured her. “They want you, kiddo, they just are waiting to make sure.”

“Sure of what, Sam?”

“Not gonna mince words with you, Anna. That you can carry a movie on your own. You’ve got the acting chops, but they need to know people will stay and look at you for two hours straight.”

“No pressure.”

“Honestly, there shouldn’t be. You already filmed it. Nothing to do now but wait.”

And wait she had for the last four weeks, trying not to think about it all too much during the still-agonizing days of sitting around waiting for Elsa to get off work or Kristoff to finish class or Sven to text her  _ sure, come over, I’ll have the Wii ready and waiting. _

Her one lucky break had come in the form of a night off for Kristoff the night before the movie was released. He still had classes in the morning, but at least if she had to spend the night lying awake with worry she wouldn’t do it alone.

“You need to sleep at least,” she told him as she brushed her nose against his as they huddled together under the blankets, both of them too torn between exhaustion and nervousness to do anything else. “You still have that lab in the morning.”

“I just don’t want you to be up all night stressing out alone.”

“It’s a good thing you live in LA, Kris. You’re so goddamn sweet the rain would melt you anywhere else.”

He snorted at that. “Can’t believe you call  _ me _ the corny one.”

Anna giggled and gave him a quick peck on the lips. “Thank you, though. But I’m serious, just, y’know, snuggling and shit will help enough.”

“I’m serious, too.”

As it turned out, neither of them needed to be; when she had turned over in his arms so he could spoon her, the slow rise and fall of his chest against her back and the gentle kisses he kept placing on the crown of her head were enough to lull her to sleep in minutes. 

She woke up to the beeping of his alarm; somehow in the night she had ended up with her head tucked back under the blankets and her legs tangled around Kristoff’s. She groaned and buried her face in his chest. “ _ Godfuckingdammit it’s today. _ ”

“Morning to you, too, my love,” he laughed, lifting the blanket to get a peek at her scowl.

“Nooo, put the blanket back. Leave me here to perish in my cave of darkness and solitude.”

“I would, I  _ really _ would, except Sven would kill me for letting his favorite Mario Kart buddy waste away.”

She huffed against his bare skin, wrapping her arms around his waist. “He only likes me more because you don’t lose to make me feel better anymore.”

“So? It’s still true. And anyway, I’m sure people loved the movie. It came out at midnight New York time, right? So maybe there’s already some reviews.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.”

Giving up on trying to coax her out from under the blanket, he dropped it again and instead reached under to begin teasing the tangles out of her hair with his fingers. “Want me to check them for you?”

“Honestly, I just need to know what Twitter says. That’s the important thing these days.”

“Want me to hand you your phone?”

“No! Oh, god, no, I don’t think I could stand to read all the shit people are probably saying. This is Tampongate 2.0, I’m telling you already.”

“Okay, so I’ll make my own Twitter and check for you.”

“But you don’t do social media.”

“Will it make you feel better if I read things for you and tell you what people say?”

“...yes,” she admitted, pressing a kiss to his ribcage and smiling when he squirmed; he was ticklish there, something she liked to take full advantage of.

“Okay, then I’ll do it.”

He rolled over then so he could fumble with the lamp and grab his phone. She moved to lay her cheek against his chest, trying not to wince when she felt him raise his arm to look at the little screen. With his other hand he was still stroking her hair, and between that and the fact that he was always so  _ warm _ , she had nearly fallen asleep again when she heard him huff out a frustrated sigh.

“Damn it,” he swore under his breath, and at last she crawled out of her blanket cocoon just enough to peek up at him.

He’d put his glasses on but had brought the screen up nearly to the tip of his nose as he tried to puzzle it out. “Why do I have to give it my contact list? I just want to see your stuff.”

Anna couldn’t help but laugh as she sat up. “Okay, Grandpa, just hand it to me, and I’ll do it.”

“No, I need to fight this battle myself,” he muttered, deadly serious as he tapped to the next screen. “Goddammit! Why do I have to put a picture?”

Now she was laughing so hard there were tears in her eyes. “You don’t have to. Just hit skip again. Kristoff, how have you  _ survived _ this long?”

“I was a Boy Scout,” he mumbled, “I learned shit about tying knots, not...this.”

“You FaceTimed me just fine when I was in Romania.”

He glanced down at her as she kept giggling helplessly, then looked back at the phone, a faint flush rising on his cheeks. “...Sven helped me.”

“Oh my god. Oh, Kristoff, baby…” 

Another fit of laughter overtook her and only grew louder when he gave a grumpy little huff upon finally reaching his still-empty feed. “Goddammit, why is it blank? Anna, quit laughing and help me find you on here.”

“Just search for me. Surely you’ve seen search bars before, you have to have done  _ something _ online in your life--”

“Ha ha. Okay, yes, I see it now.”

He started scrolling through the long list of Annas, his brows furrowed in concentration, and she burrowed back under the blankets, resting her face against his stomach and pressing absentminded kisses to it whenever she heard him make little noises of confusion. He was so focused on the phone that he didn’t even notice when her lips drifted lower, her kisses starting to linger longer as she reached his hipbone.

“Aha!” he shouted suddenly, just as her phone buzzed on the nightstand, and Anna jumped in surprise as he flung the blankets off of her head.

“Jesus, Kris, you nearly gave me a heart attack,” she teased, pressing one more kiss just below his navel, but his only response was a grin of satisfaction as he passed her her phone. 

“I did it,” he said proudly. “I twitted.”

“ _ Tweeted _ .”

“I like twitted better.”

“You’re lucky I’m already madly in love with you,” she muttered, ignoring her phone in favor of returning her attention and her mouth to the little spot right above the waistband of his boxers that always made him squirm beneath her touch.

Next to her head, his fist clenched around the sheets. “Read what I said first,” he said, his voice strained but determined. “I didn’t go through all that for nothing.”

“Fine,” she said with a heavy sigh as she took her phone in hand and sat up, swinging one leg over him so she could straddle his lap as she read.

His hand was on her thigh now, stroking slowly up and down and making it hard to stay focused as she flicked the notification open and waited for the app to load. At last it did, and she clicked the notification with a smile.

_ One new mention: _

@anna_a_actress I love you, baby! :) - @kristoff123456789

Suddenly her vision was a little blurry. “How are you so fucking  _ adorable _ ?” she asked, dropping her phone so she could lean down and kiss him. “Oh my  _ god _ .”

He chuckled a little as he kissed her back. “Wow, first you call me grandpa, now you call me adorable…you really know how to get a guy going.”

“Well, I was  _ trying _ to--”

His hips rolled up against her as he nipped at her bottom lip. “Do that?”

“Took the words right out of my mouth.”

“I thought you wanted me to check Twitter and see what people--”

Anna groaned against the already-flushed skin of his neck before pulling away. “Oh, fuck, I forgot about that.”

“Sorry-- that was a mood-killer, wasn’t it?”

“Tragically, yes.”

He patted her hip. “I’ll make it up to you later. Here, show me how to look up what people are saying.”

She did so quickly and bit her lip. “You gotta promise to tell me the truth. Even if everyone hates it. Just don’t tell me, like, specific things, I don’t need to know if I’m a meme again or—“

He was already looking. “Do you want me to tell you now, or—“

“No! God, no, there’s no way I can face this before breakfast. Let me at least get some coffee down.”

She kissed his cheek before clambering out of bed. “Do you want anything?”

“‘m good,” he said, already back to scrolling. 

Anna smiled to herself as she pulled on the pair of old sweatpants she’d brought back from his parents’ house and kept here ever since for the nights she stayed over— more for Sven’s sake than anyone else’s. Even tightened, they hung low on her hips under her stolen t-shirt as she went into the kitchen, trying to think about anything but the inevitable failure of this movie. 

She had only planned on making coffee, but then waiting for the pot to brew was leaving her too much time to think, and so by the time she returned to Kristoff’s bedroom she was having to draw on every reflex from her waitressing days as she carried in a plate full of scrambled eggs and toast, two mugs of steaming coffee, and a bottle of whiskey she’d pulled out of the cabinet just in case. 

“Do you think this is the real Ellen Degeneres?” he asked, holding his phone up to her; his eyes widened in surprise as he took in the feast she was setting on the bed. “Wow. You really did appreciate me getting a Twitter, huh? Breakfast in bed and everything.”

“There’s tabasco on your half,” she said, taking his phone. “Oh my god, it  _ is _ the real Ellen.”

“Oh, cool,” he said, already taking a bite of toast. “Will you get me her autograph when you go on her show? That’s her second twit about it, by the way, the first one said she loved it. So did all the other ones.”

She set the phone back down; her fingers were trembling so badly she was worried she might drop it in her coffee. “All of them?”

He had been trying to contain his excitement, probably for the sake of her nerves, but it spilled over now as he grinned and nodded at her, his hair flopping in his eyes. “I told you. You’re a star, Anna.”

They couldn’t linger long over breakfast, as much as she wanted to; Kristoff had a nine A.M. class, and Anna had errands to run before having Honey over for dinner that night. “I  _ think _ it’s a date,” she explained to Kristoff as she got dressed. He had been on his way to the shower and stopped to watch her appreciatively, as if it were the very first time. She took her time rolling up her tights, his eyes tracking every inch of progress. “They set it up through me, but like, they both texted me at the same time asking ‘hey, what about dinner tomorrow with the three of us’ so, uh, kind of obvious, if you ask me.”

He came over to help her tuck her sweater into her skirt and let his hands linger on her hips as he leaned down to kiss her, slow and scorching. When he pulled away, she couldn’t help but pout a little. “Later, baby. I promise.”

“You’re lucky I’m already dressed, Bjorgman.”

“Really? Feeling kind of unlucky, myself. Could’ve used some company in the shower.”

He left her with a quick kiss on the cheek before heading down the hall to the bathroom. She smoothed her skirt back out, smiling to herself as she padded into the kitchen. Sven had already left for the day, but he’d left a post-it note on the counter that said, “Thanks for leaving me a cup, Anna :)”

“You’re welcome,” she said aloud, then winced at the mess she’d made of the counter. Well, it was  _ their _ apartment, but she’d been the one who’d somehow used three pans to make scrambled eggs, and so she rolled up her sleeves and got to work scrubbing the dishes. 

She was nearly finished when she felt Kristoff come up behind her and press his lips to the back of her neck, his hands settling around her waist. She turned, bubbles still on her hands, and slid her fingers into his damp hair as their lips met. 

“I love you,” he murmured against her mouth.

“Love you back,” she said, her hands sliding down to his shoulders so she could pull him into a hug, inhaling the clean, woodsy scent of his soap and letting herself be warmed from the inside out as he embraced her.

It occurred to her then how much easier it would be if instead of his-and-Sven’s and hers-and-Elsa’s it was just  _ theirs _ , but they’d only been dating for not quite six months and-- well. Was it too soon? She didn’t know; she’d never made it too far.

She pulled back just a little and, to her surprise, found the same vulnerability, the same longing, in Kristoff’s eyes that she felt in her heart. Neither of them gave voice to it, but a smile crept over their faces all the same. “Love you,” she said again, because she could and because it made him smile and because she meant it so damn much she would say nothing else for the rest of her life and still be content. She had never felt like this before, not about anyone or anything, had never treasured something like this-- and never felt so treasured in return. Kristoff saw her,  _ knew _ her, inside and out; had looked over each part of her, even the raw, aching pieces she had tried to hide, and cherished each of them, and  _ god _ , she could only hope she’d loved him just as well in return.

He kissed her forehead, as if to say  _ you have _ . “Love you back.”

* * *

She was halfway to the grocery store when her agent called. “Sam!” she greeted him cheerfully. “How are--”

“Seven hundred fifty thousand.”

“Um...what?”

“Dollars. That’s how much the studio just called me to offer.”

She jerked the wheel, pulling into a gas station parking lot before she passed out. “I-- for--”

“Anastasia. They upped their offer because they know how many others you’re about to get.”

When had she started shaking? “Because--”

“Remember that movie with Sandra Bullock and the blindfolds?”

“Um... _ Bird Box _ ?”

“Yes. This is bigger, Anna. This is the first time my phone’s been freed up to call you all morning. People  _ love _ the movie.”

“And-- so--”

“Shit, someone’s calling me again. Listen-- can you come in this afternoon to sign the paperwork? Assuming you still want to take this job, because if not, like I said, there’s about to be plenty of other ones on the table.”

“Yeah, yeah, of course, I’ll be right in, Sam, I--”

“Ah, shit, someone else is calling the landline-- see you at two, okay?”

He hung up before she could say goodbye. For a long moment, she just leaned her forehead against the steering wheel, trying to comprehend the scope of  _ seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars _ \-- for  _ her _ , just for wearing a fancy dress and saying a few lines. The rest of her student loans, her credit card debt,  _ Elsa’s  _ student loans; she could go into any store on Rodeo and come out with too many bags to carry, could go back to the car salesman and this time pay cash for something new and embarrassingly shiny, she could buy a  _ house _ \--

A house. She could move out on her own if she wanted, maybe not pay for it all up front because this was still Los Angeles, but a mortgage would be nothing now if she wanted to stop renting, and she could furnish it and feed herself and buy a bed big enough to stretch from one wall to the other if she wanted-- and maybe, if she was lucky, someone would even agree to share it with her.

She shot off a quick text to Kristoff telling him about the news; he was in a lab at the moment, so he wouldn’t respond for hours, but still she had to let him know. And there was something else to contemplate, in a day that had already been full of very big questions: when, exactly, had he become the first person she told about something, before even her own sister?

She didn’t know. She didn’t care. She pinched herself just to make sure she was really awake before starting the car up again and heading on her way. 

The first person to recognize her was a girl in a Stranger Things t-shirt in front of the bananas. She wanted a selfie, which Anna gladly posed for, secretly grateful that for once she had foregone wearing one of Kristoff’s sweatshirts out in public again. Next there was a guy by the bread who wanted her autograph, then another guy who saw her signing and said, “I’m not sure who you are, but this is LA, so why not?” and asked for it, too. And then the cashier started freaking out and said she loved the trailer and called her friend over even though she was in the middle of checking someone out, and then all the people in the checkout lines started craning their necks, and suddenly a huge group selfie was happening and someone was stepping on her toes, and she had been  _ really really _ nice to all of them but finally she squeaked, “Uh, listen, guys, I have a meeting to get to--”

“Are you gonna be in another movie?” the girl in the Stranger Things shirt asked. Why was she still here? All she had in her cart were those bananas. “Is this a meeting with Netflix?”

“Uh, no comment?”

“ _ Ohmygod _ , you are!”

“Um, well, I hope so, since I’m an actress. Anyway-- bye!”

She took off at a clip, not realizing until she was already in her car and halfway up the road that she had left the bag with the avocados in it at the checkout lane. And she had  _ promised _ to make guacamole-- well. There was no way in hell she was turning back around for it. She liked people, really, but not when they were all crowding around her at once and asking her things she didn’t know the answer to and frantically tweeting about where she was. Elsa would just have to make do with plain tortilla chips.

A flashbulb went off when she pulled in to the agency parking lot, then two more as she walked in. A security guard met her halfway across the lot. “No fuckin’ photos here, assholes!” he yelled as he held one arm around her, blocking her face from view. “Sorry, miss. Sam sent me down here just in case. Normally we don’t have to bother, but damn, they’re persistent today.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, relieved. “You’re a lifesaver.”

“All in a day’s work,” he said, holding the door open for her. “Congratulations, by the way. Haven’t seen the movie yet, but my wife’s already texted me twice about it.”

She laughed. “Hope you enjoy it.”

Sam’s office was on the twelfth floor; she took the elevator ride to check her phone and found the screen full of notifications, so many she couldn’t seem to find the bottom. Scowling, she swiped it open and went to her messages-- there were sixteen little notifications already, most of them from people she hadn’t spoken to since college. She had to scroll down to find Kristoff’s, something she hadn’t had to do since-- well, since getting his number.

_ That’s amazing, sweetheart. I’m so proud.  _

_ People are talking about your movie between classes. :) Someone asked me if you were really my girlfriend and asked for your autograph. What do you want me to say? _

_ love you sm 💕💕 _

_ honestly can u just tell them no? _

_ kind of already been a crazy day _

_ No you’re not my girlfriend, or the autograph, or both? _

The elevator dinged open to reveal Sam with his arms open, saving her from having to answer. She didn’t know  _ how _ to answer.

“There’s my star!” Sam cheered, pulling her into a tight hug. She went gladly; he had been her agent since even before she had graduated, when she’d been looking for work as a background character and he’d been willing to take her on. He’d been a father figure to her ever since, guiding her through all the ups and downs and helping her in every way he could.

“You have no idea how relieved I am to see you,” Anna sighed, squeezing him a little tighter than normal.

“That bad, huh?” he asked, gently patting her back. 

“Worse.”

“I’ll take care of it, kiddo,” he promised. “But first, let’s sign some papers.”

* * *

At dinner, she thanked her lucky stars that Elsa and Honey were too wrapped up in staring at each other over the tortilla chips-- thank god Honey at least had brought spinach dip-- to wonder why she was being so uncharacteristically quiet. They raised a toast to her movie being a success, and then another to her signing the new contract, and then another to “sevenhundredfifty _ fuckin _ thousand dollars, Anna, knew you were a star the moment I first did your eyeshadow!” and by then their cheeks were flushed enough from the wine that she knew she didn’t have to make much more conversation.

She’d been looking forward to this, really; she loved her sister, and Honey was rapidly becoming a close friend, and ever since the trip to Disneyland she’d been pestering them both for details of their budding romance. But today, all she could do was wonder if Honeymaren had had to ever deal with getting recognized in the streets, how Elsa would respond if paparazzi started camping outside the door, what either of them might say if she suddenly admitted she’d been thinking of moving out on her own. They’d probably be grateful, honestly, judging by the way Elsa had not-so-secretly slid her hand under the table to sit on Honey’s knee.

“I’m gonna call it a night,” Anna said suddenly, and they both turned to look at her, blinking their way out of the lovestruck haze they’d been caught in.

“But you didn’t even eat your cake,” Elsa said, frowning. “And it’s your favorite kind.”

“I know, I just-- um. Kristoff, promised to call, long day, you know how it is,” she said, already pushing her chair back in and heading for the door. 

She’d eventually texted him back,  _ up to you babe you decide _ , and he’d said  _ It’s okay, class is already over for the day. Call you after work? _

Her phone rang at 9:01, just like it always did. “Sorry,” she said, not bothering with a hello, “that I waited so long to text you back about that thing.”

“Hello to you, too,” he said, amused; she could hear the jingle of car keys in his hand.

“I just, um. Felt really bad about that. But I really didn’t know what to say.”

“‘S okay. Figured it was something like that, or a meeting or something.”

“There was a meeting, too, actually. Got the contract all signed and notarized, talked to my new publicist, started coming up with a PR plan, all the fun legal stuff.”

“What else happened?”

“What do you mean? That’s the exciting stuff.”

“You sound...I don’t know. Like something’s wrong.”

She bit her lip. “I just, uh...god, this is going to sound so stupid and self-pitying, but like, at Trader Joe’s some people recognized me, and it was cool when it was just one person coming up at a time, but then I was trying to check out and a bunch of people swarmed me, and then like, a security guard had to help me get into the agency—“

“A security guard? Anna, are you okay?”

If she said  _ no _ , the next thing she would hear would be his turn signal as he made a u-turn and headed across town to her apartment. It was tempting, but he had a full load of classes tomorrow, from eight to five. “I’m good, really. There were just some photographers.”

He was quiet for a long moment. “Did you ever want to be this famous?”

“No. Well, of course I did, but like...it was never about, you know, this stuff. I want people to like who I am on the screen, not, y’know, sneak a picture of me squeezing avocados.”

“I was wondering what that twit was about.”

“Please tell me you’re kidding,” she said, suddenly close to tears, but the only response was silence. 

Finally he sighed. “Sorry. Are you really sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah. But I just...can we just pretend this is like a normal night now? Just...tell me about your day, let me say some cheesy shit to you, tell me about what we’ll do tomorrow night.”

“Aye aye, captain,” he said, and she couldn’t help but smile. 

* * *

The next morning, her plan to hide out all day was interrupted by her phone ringing at eight. She had finished talking to Kristoff just before ten and had spent the next several hours trying fruitlessly to sleep. Around six, she had finally succeeded, and so she was swearing when she tapped the red icon to make the stupid buzzing stop. 

It started again almost immediately, and she groaned as she reached across the bed to grab it. “Sam? We literally just spent all afternoon—“

“I know. But your publicist is here. We’ve already gotten three interview requests for you and a Hallmark producer breathing down our necks. Oh, and Twitter called to see if you have time to do the verification process today, and there’s a few designs here for potential awards show gowns, and— well. None of that is why I called you. I need you and the boyfriend here ASAP.”

“...Kristoff? Why?”

“We have to figure out our game plan before it’s too late.”

“Our game plan? Sam, what—“

“Shit, sorry, Hallmark guy again— I’ll explain later, gottagokiddo _ bye! _ ”

Eight-oh-five, and already today  _ sucked.  _

_ morning kris💕 _

_ sam wants us both for a meeting asap _

_ i’ll pick u up from class? _

_ Why me? Did I do something? _

_ don’t know, honestly, don’t think so _

_ something about a game plan _

_ aren’t u in class? _

_ Starting late. Professor dropped a liver again.  _

_ ew _

_ ew ew ew _

_ idk how you do this shit _

_ love you  _

Try as she might, she couldn’t fall back asleep, not even after going for a long run, coming home and eating a turkey sandwich, and putting on Bob Ross. That usually worked even before the first happy little tree got finished. And Sam never did call back, so by the time she pulled onto campus, she was in a full-on Terrible Mood. 

And then Kristoff slid into the passenger seat and handed her a cup of hot chocolate. “We finished a couple minutes early. Thought you might need this.”

She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before taking a sip. “What’s it like being the most thoughtful person in the world?”

His cheeks turned pink. “It’s nothing, Anna, really. Just wanted to help if I could.”

She couldn’t resist kissing his cheek again before starting the car back up. “You never did make it up to me, by the way.”

“Make up what?”

“Yesterday morning, when you interrupted me trying to go down on you to ask about Twitter.”

Now his whole face was red. “Anna, you can’t remind me of that right before I’m supposed to be in some big important meeting.”

“We have time to pull over. I’ll tell Sam there was traffic.”

He looked tempted, but then he glanced over and saw she wasn’t smiling. “No, baby, let’s get this over with so we can stop worrying about it.”

He held her hand as they walked in to the building, eyes darting around to make sure there were no hidden photographers lurking. Thankfully, they made it in without incident and were quickly ushered into Sam’s office, where he greeted them with an unusually tense smile. 

The publicist— at least, she assumed that was her— was sitting behind his desk, too. Anna sat in the same chair she always had, and Kristoff sat beside her, looking as if they were in a doctor’s office bracing for bad news. 

Was it going to be bad news? Judging by the look on the woman’s face—

She squeezed Kristoff’s hand, and he squeezed back. 

Sam sat down and cleared his throat. “So. The two of you are, presumably, in this for the long haul.”

“Yes,” Kristoff said immediately, and a new softness appeared in Sam’s eyes. 

“Then we need to figure out our plan to handle your public relationship,” the publicist said, steepling her fingers. “Lena, by the way. Lovely to meet you both, sorry it’s not under less intense circumstances.”

Anna swallowed hard. “Has something, like, happened? Has someone—“

“No, no,” Sam said quickly. “But at the rate your star is rising, we have to start figuring out how to handle the...fallout. Sorry, dramatic word,” he said, seeing their stunned expressions. “But, well...we need to decide if your relationship is going to be public. Because sooner or later, if we don’t start being proactive, that decision will be made  _ for  _ you.”

Kristoff tensed beside her, his fingers tightening around hers. Sweet, endlessly selfless Kristoff who still blushed when she kissed his cheek unexpectedly and stammered over the small talk customers tried to make while he was at work— 

“It can be, if— if that’s what Anna—“

“No,” she cut in quickly. “No. Kristoff is— he’s— no. And I just...no.”

Lena raised her eyebrows. “So keeping the whole thing under wraps?”

“Yes. Some parts of my life need to stay just for me. Just for us.”

She heard him let out a long breath beside her; he never would have dreamed of saying it himself, would do anything he could to support her in any way possible, but she never would have forgiven herself if she hadn’t spoken up on his behalf. 

“Probably for the best,” Sam said, looking sympathetic. “Things are only going to get crazier, kiddo.”

Lena nodded. “They are. If you two are out together, you’ll need to hide your faces. Both of you. If they find out where you live, where you spend your free time, you’ll have to stop going there together. Date nights only outside of the city. Sleepovers only if you leave separately. And Anna...you have to take down that tweet.”

“What tweet?”

“The one that says ‘love you too’ to an account with no other followers. You’ll need to unfollow him, too, unless you want someone to notice him in the list and look him up and find where you both live and start camping out there.”

Kristoff paled beside her. “They can do that?”

“Yes. They could already be trying. I know this is a lot, but it’s just what we have to do.”

Lena leaned over the desk, her eyes serious as they met Anna’s. “I’ll do whatever I can to help you guys. But you  _ have _ to be careful.”

Anna barely heard the rest of the meeting, which was thankfully short; all of her focus was on Kristoff beside her, the way his shoulders had sagged a little more with every word, the way his thumb had started circling over hers, the sadness in his eyes as they faced each other in the elevator on the way back down. 

He started to say something, but Anna interrupted him. “Can you drive? Sorry, I just— I don’t know.”

He kissed her forehead and took the keys from her hand. As soon as she was seated, she pulled out her phone, opened Twitter, and with a few taps deleted the only online evidence of their relationship. It shouldn’t have bothered her as much as it did, just deleting a stupid tweet and unfollowing an account he’d never use again anyway, but  _ god _ — it was just supposed to have been a stupid, cute gesture, something for them to laugh about, and now—

Kristoff reaches over and squeezed her knee. “It’s gonna be okay, Anna. Really.”

Neither of them spoke again until they were back at his apartment, afraid to meet each other’s gaze. 

“Pizza?” Kristoff asked finally, but Anna shook her head. 

“Not hungry. You eat something, though, I’m just— just gonna shower, okay?”

She didn’t wait for a response before heading to the bathroom. She shut the door firmly behind her, stripped out of her clothes, turned the water on as hot as it would go, and immediately burst into tears. 

She bit down on the back of her hand, hard, as a sob threatened to escape her.  _ Of course you would be selfish like this _ , the voice in the back of her mind hissed,  _ of course you would get the job everyone dreams of and fucking cry about it because it means people give a fuck about you. Pathetic.  _

God, she was pathetic, standing here in a shower so hot her skin was already turning pink feeling sorry for herself while her boyfriend who actually did something worthwhile was waiting for her to get her shit together, a million times more patient than she had ever deserved. All because of a stupid meeting, a few new rules, unfollowing him on Twitter—  _ fuck _ , she thought, remembering again his proud smile as he’d figured out how the stupid fucking thing worked for her. 

Eventually the hot water ran out, and she wrapped herself in the towel and went to his room, pulling on the biggest shirt and smallest pair of basketball shorts she could find before coming back out, not caring that her hair was wet and would dry all wonky.

He was asleep on the sofa when she came in at last; he had changed into his sweatpants and switched into his glasses, which now hung precariously on the tip of his nose. A book was still open on his chest, held in place by one limp hand and already beginning to slide. She crept over and carefully eased it out of his grasp, setting it face down on the coffee table so he wouldn’t lose his place. He still didn’t move even when she removed his glasses and set them aside; it made her want to weep all over again, seeing the purple shadows under his eyes. She heard a faint creak from behind her and turned to see that Sven had come back in to the kitchen to get a cup of water. He nodded in greeting and beckoned her over. She tiptoed to him and offered him a weak smile. “Hey,” she whispered, and he offered her a fistbump.

“Hey, superstar,” he said. “Your movie is all anyone talked about at lunch today. You okay?”

Her lip wobbled, and before she could say more he pulled her into a tight hug. “It’s gonna be good, Anna,” he said, patting her back. “Kris told me about the meeting. That’s shitty, man.”

“Yeah. But it’s...for the best.”

“It’s gonna be good,” he repeated, and then hesitated for a moment. “I’m, uh, I’m not good at the, like, nice, emotional support shit, but, uh, he like, stayed up late to watch the movie with me last night because he was proud of you and shit.”

“But he has that eight A.M. class--”

“I know, I told him that shit could wait. But he didn’t want to. I guess, uh, I don’t know if that helps. But like...shit, man. I haven’t seen him be this happy before. So I hope you guys can make it work.”

“Me, too.”

He let go of her with an awkward pat on the shoulder. “Anyway, uh, I got work tomorrow, so I’ll just...go back to my room. But I’m here if you need me, you know that, right?”

“Thanks, Sven.”

“Anytime.”

When she heard his door click shut again, she turned and looked back at Kristoff; he hadn’t budged. She went to his room and brought back a pillow and blanket. She lifted his head just enough to slide the pillow under; he blinked blearily and mumbled, “Anna?”

“Shh, baby,” she whispered, kissing his forehead, “go back to sleep.”

His eyes were shut again even before she had laid his head back down on the pillow. She draped the blanket over him and had just started to pull away when she felt his fingers brush against her wrist. His eyes were open again, sleepy but clear. “Come here,” he said softly, and she did; he raised one arm, and she nestled against him, their legs tangling as she laid her head on his chest. He pulled the blanket back up over them both and curled his arm tightly around her, determined to shelter her even in his sleep.

“Love you, Kris,” she murmured, but the only response was a soft snore. 


	11. transitions

Some people, he presumed, would find it sexy, all the sneaking around and clandestine meet-ups and whispered phone calls. It was all very exciting in a way, standing around in parking lots and waiting for an SUV with newly-tinted windows to roll up and collect him, but he was already missing the ease of just running down to meet her in the parking lot and sweeping her up into an embrace before she’d had a chance to say hello.

There were no parking lot kisses for them anymore, especially not at his apartment complex, not after last weekend’s news article announcing newcomer Anna Arendelle had been cast in the title role of the live-action remake of _Anastasia_ , alongside-- what _was_ that guy’s name? Henry, or Hank or something; no, it sounded vaguely European...well, whatever it was, in Kristoff’s opinion, he wore far too much hair gel. And he was apparently very famous, and it was a huge deal for the movie and Anna’s career that they were playing opposite each other, and that meant the paparazzi were going overboard trying to get photos of her. As if it hadn’t already been bad enough that she was the biggest breakout star of the year, according to all the clickbait websites; the whole world loved Anna Arendelle now, was going absolutely _crazy_ over her and her “down-to-earth presence” and “hilarious Twitter feed” and “all those gorgeous freckles” that were apparently starting a new skincare craze.

Perhaps the only person more exhausted by it all than him was Anna herself. “It’s not that I’m, like, ungrateful,” she had explained to him one night last week after an interview as they had huddled in the backseat of her car, parked behind a KFC that was undergoing renovations while they waited to make sure the coast was clear before driving to her apartment. “I mean, the fans are great, and I’m glad I like, make them happy and stuff. But _Jesus_ , I just want to be just _me_ again for a little while. I can’t even walk around in your fucking t-shirts anymore without people speculating which thrift shop I got them from and tweeting me a million times about it.”

She had been in the middle of changing into one of those t-shirts as she spoke, and it was jarring, almost, to see the contrast between the faded cotton and the thick layer of makeup she was still wearing. It looked beautiful under the stage lights, but now up close it just felt like one more barrier keeping him from her.

And then she had seen the sadness in his eyes and clambered into his lap and thrown her arms around him, and it was like nothing had changed at all. “Well, I love you,” he had reassured her with a kiss on her forehead. “Just-you you, and famous actress you, and Twitter you, and any other kind of you there is.”

She’d pressed a kiss to the underside of his jaw. “What would I do without you, Kris?”

“Have to pay for a professional driver, I guess.”

“Way to ruin the sweet moment,” she’d murmured, but by the way she had nestled closer to his chest, he’d known he hadn’t really.

But now she was knee-deep in rehearsals and costume fittings, and he was gearing up for the end of his final semester before clinicals and still working at least three days a week, and since she refused to spend the night at his place for fear someone would find him and stalk him, he hadn’t seen her since that single hour they’d spent together in the car nearly a week ago. 

The first night after everything had blown up, when she’d been planning on staying the night and instead had called him in tears, she had apologized over and over. “I had no idea it would be like this, Kris, I know I promised to come but I just keep running into people everywhere who recognize me now, and I can’t do that to you, I just _can’t_ \--”

He’d let her go on for a while, knowing she needed to get it out of her system, but when she’d finally paused to draw in a ragged breath, he had said as calmly as possible, “Anna. I don’t love you any less because of this. We’re in this together, okay?”

“Okay, okay, I’m just really s--”

“ _Don’t_ , baby, please, okay? Do you need me to come pick you up?”

“No, I-- I know you have class in the morning, just-- will you stay on the phone with me? God, I just-- I just really, _really_ was looking forward to spending the night with you.”

He had been, too. And he was again now; tomorrow was Thanksgiving, and he’d had the week off from classes, but she had been so overwhelmed with rehearsals and fittings and endless interviews for the past month that even if she hadn’t been dodging paparazzi, there would have hardly been any time to see each other. But they were going to spend the next three days at his parents’ house, three whole days where only his younger siblings’ giggles would keep him from holding her. 

“And Saturday and Sunday,” Anna had said over the phone when he told her his parents had invited her to come along. “Elsa and Honey are going to the mountains for the weekend, so we’ll have my whole apartment to ourselves and no weird ‘my older sister is in the next room’ vibes. If you want to come over, I mean.”

Of course he did, and he had told her in no uncertain terms exactly what he would spend the weekend doing, until he could practically hear her blushing as she said, “ _Jesus_ , Kristoff, give me one good reason not to come pick you up so we can hole up in a hotel for the next twenty-four hours straight.”

At the time, he’d had a reason, but a week later he was wondering what the hell it had been. He shoved his hands in his pockets, trying to think of roasted turkeys and watching football with his dad instead of Anna’s hands running all over him and her lips against his skin and her hair spilling out over his pillow-- and then he sighted her car finally pulling up to pick him up from the deserted parking lot behind the biology lab on the far end of his campus, and he could think about her all he wanted because finally she was _here_.

Apparently even the time it would take for him to walk over to the car from where he’d been standing under an awning was too long; the moment the lights switched off, Anna jumped out and ran over to him, her arms already extended. She jumped into his arms with the same desperation she had had when he had dropped her off at the airport all those months ago, tangling her fingers in his hair and kissing him like it had been six years and not six days.

“I missed you,” she managed to say between kisses. “ _Fuck_ , longest week of my life, Kris.”

He pulled back enough to get a good luck at her, worry pooling in his chest when he saw the dark circles under her eyes. “Well, we’ve got five days together now, yeah? You’ll have to tell me all about it.”

She leaned her forehead against his, drawing a deep breath as their eyes met. “We gotta find something better than just sneaking around and seeing each other for an hour every couple days.”

“I know,” he said softly. “I’ve kind of gotten used to having you around.”

“Gee, thanks,” she teased, kissing the bridge of his nose.

He wanted to keep holding her like this, wanted to pull her in for another kiss and feel her sigh against him and whisper that he loved her until he went hoarse. Instead he set her down and affectionately nudged his elbow against her arm. “You know what I mean. I keep rolling over in the night and reaching for you or like, expecting to come home and find you fighting with Sven about Call of Duty.”

Anna laughed as they walked towards her car hand-in-hand. “That started out really romantic and then just reminded me that I really owe him an ass-kicking. I-- wait, actually…”

He paused by the back of the car, raising an eyebrow. Anna blushed as she met his gaze. “Um. Can you drive?” she asked hesitantly. “Um. Don’t laugh, but, like...fuck. Okay. This is dumb--”

“Anna. Just say it.”

“I just...miss how like, how when you drive you put your hand on my knee because like. I don’t know.”

He went without further comment to the other side of the car, a smile playing at the corner of his lips as he moved the seat back. When there was finally enough room for his legs, he climbed in; Anna was setting something wrapped in foil in her lap, smoothing down the edges where she’d just taken a quick peek at it.

“What’s that?” Kristoff asked as he turned the keys.

“I, um. I made a pie. From scratch, seriously, Elsa nearly killed me when she saw all the flour on the counter, but I didn’t want to just show up empty-handed or with just a can of cranberry sauce or something, and I know your sisters like chocolate so I figured fudge pie would be good and keep in the fridge tonight until--”

He leaned over and kissed her until he felt her relax. “Thank you for doing that,” he said, brushing the tip of his nose over hers. “It’ll mean a lot to my mom.”

She looked at him with so much love in her eyes then, the way that was beginning to frighten him. It wasn’t _her_ that scared him, not at all; he would be overjoyed to spend the rest of his life with her looking at him that way. But he had this absurd idea in the back of his mind that if she kept showering that much love on him all at once, she would run out of it quicker and then...well. She was still Anna, so she wouldn’t just completely cast him aside, but a gentle letdown seemed more and more likely every day as her star shone a little brighter each passing hour, and still she poured so much time and affection onto _him_ of all people. He wished she would slow down, pace herself; he’d take a few less “I love yous” if it meant dragging out the inevitable a little longer.

He didn’t dare breathe a word of how he felt to Anna. He knew it would devastate her to hear it. It wasn’t that he doubted her; she loved him well and so completely he wondered sometimes how he had lived before it. And of course he loved her too, more than anything, and yes, like he reassured her over and over again when she began to worry about all the new Annas she was expected to be, she was still _her_ , which meant she was his favorite person in the world, but that was the problem: she had always been her, always destined for bright and beautiful things, and he had always been him, and sometimes just loving someone wasn’t enough.

“Kris?”

He blinked; he had been so focused on his thoughts and getting started on the drive that he hadn’t heard her. He reached over and squeezed her knee. “Sorry, baby, what is it?”

“Can we make a detour? I’ll, uh-- it’s hard to find with GPS, I mean, so I’ll tell you the way. And it’ll be fast, I promise.”

He shot her a quick glance before turning onto the interstate. Why did she look so nervous all of a sudden? “Sure, no problem.”

They stayed on the interstate for a while, until they were nearly to Santa Clarita, and then she set her hand over his where it rested on her knee and squeezed. “Take this exit,” she said, and he did so silently, not understanding what she was doing and not trusting himself to say the right thing.

She directed him down a series of roads until they were just past the outskirts of town, and then she pointed towards a gravel lined path he nearly missed. “Sorry,” she said when he swerved to make the turn, “it’s, uh, like I said, hard to find. Which is, um. What I was looking for.”

He opened his mouth, a question finally forming, but then they passed through a line of trees into a cleared glade, and the words died in his throat.

It was a little house with blue shutters and a small porch; only one story, but with plenty of wide windows to let in the light, and there was a “For Sale” sign out front. After several long moments, he turned to Anna, and saw a little smile curling at the corners of her mouth.

“It’s-- it’s not that expensive, really,” she said, her voice wobbling a little, “I mean, I can’t buy it outright, but since they’re paying me week by week during rehearsals I can do the down payment and mortgage easy, and it’s out of the way so no one would find it, and-- and Elsa came and looked at it for me a few days ago and sent me pictures of the inside and it’s really nice, and I know-- I know…”

She trailed off and took a deep breath. “Um. I mean. I looked at other houses, but I kind of liked this one the most because...well. It’s out of the way, like I said, but since it’s north of town it’s only like thirty minutes from where you said your clinicals would be, and like-- I’m not saying that to, you know, make you feel obligated or anything, but just-- well, I mean, I really love you. And you just...I don’t know, I kind of thought maybe you would want it too, and it would make a lot of stuff easier on us, and if you say no I totally get it but, um-- do you think maybe you’d want to live here with me?”

 _Yes_ , he wanted to say, _yes, my god, you don’t even have to ask, give me the chance to fall asleep with you in my arms and wake up to find you still there, let me make you breakfast every Saturday and let me start a garden out front full of only sunflowers and let this be our home for as long as it can_.

Instead he swallowed hard and asked, “Are you sure about this, Anna? I...don’t know if this is a good idea.”

He had never seen her face fall so fast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LMAO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG AND THAT IT ENDS ON THAT NOTE


	12. a couple of turkeys

Mercifully, Anna fell asleep after the most excruciating forty-five minutes of his life. She was leaning against the window, so he couldn’t see her face, which was probably for the best, because the wounded look in her eyes was absolutely killing him.

“That’s fine,” she’d said quickly after he’d told her moving in together probably wasn’t a good idea. “You’re right, I wasn’t even thinking, I’m sorry. Let’s just-- let’s just get back on the road.”

“Anna, I’m not--”

“Come on, your mom’s waiting.”

“It’s just that I--”

“It’s  _ fine _ ,” she had insisted. “You don’t have to explain yourself. You don’t have to have a reason not to want to live with me.”

And then she’d looked down at her phone and began talking animatedly about how Elsa was already sending pictures of her getaway with Honeymaren and how cute they were together and how they had better let her be the maid of honor at their wedding because this was all due to her, and Kristoff had started driving again, and though he laughed at all the right parts in her monologue neither of them actually smiled.

And then she’d gotten quiet after a while and snuck a glance at him. “Are you upset that I asked you? I’m...I really am sorry if I asked too soon or something. It’s just, um, you know we’re both always like ‘man I wish I didn’t have to go home’ and then. Um. I don’t know. But it’s okay, really. We don’t have to rush anything.”

“It’s not that it feels like rushing. I’m just trying to think long-term, you know?”

“...what do you mean?”

“Just...I don’t know. Sometimes things just don’t...work out.”

“Oh,” she had said, very softly, and that was when she had turned away and rested her forehead against the glass, and neither of them had spoken since.

He wanted to set his hand on her knee, let her know that this didn’t mean he loved her any less, but he didn’t want to wake her, not when the shadows under her eyes were darker than he had ever seen. She hadn’t even started filming yet, and already between the rehearsals all day and the interviews and paparazzi-dodging all night, she was completely exhausted.

_ If you lived together _ , the voice in his head said, making his heart ache,  _ then maybe you could help with that. _

He would; as tired as he was these days, he’d do whatever she needed in order to help her get at least a little bit of rest. Even if that meant letting her steal all the blankets so that he had to roll over and hold her in order to get any warmth-- and as he thought it, it occurred to him for the first time that that was precisely why she did it.

_ Fuck _ .

And he’d said no out of fear that he’d stop being enough for her, out of the certainty that this was going to end, and in doing so had probably sped up the demise of the best thing in his life. 

His fingers clenched around the steering wheel. He wanted to do the right thing, wanted to do right by  _ her _ . But it felt like there  _ was  _ no right, not when leaving would mean breaking her heart and his own, and staying with her meant he’d only hold her back from whatever-  _ whoever _ — she was meant for.

A little snore escaped her then, and he felt a sudden twinge of affection so strong he unconsciously pressed a hand over his heart.  _ God,  _ he thought,  _ but what if she’s meant for  _ me?

That was pure, self-indulgent fantasy. Just because they’d been friends who had secretly loved each other all through high school and lost touch with each other and somehow reconnected years later and fallen in love all over again almost immediately and never had an actual fight (until now maybe) and hated being apart and liked the same kind of pizza and fit perfectly together in every sense of the word and—

_ Fuck _ , he thought again, but this time there was a sense of wonder about it. 

He had three more hours to ponder over it all before he pulled up in front of his parents’ house, three hours to come to a decision, to formulate an explanation and an apology, to realize that maybe, just maybe, there  _ was _ a right thing to do. 

Anna was still asleep when he pulled up to the house, but that only lasted as long as it took for his youngest sister to hear the car pull up and run out to meet them, yelling, “You’re here!”

Anna jerked upright, looking disoriented, but the moment Kristoff squeezed her hand she blinked and offered him a smile, one that slid away all too quickly and was replaced by a look of shame. “Anna, I—“ he started, already knowing he’d do everything in his power to make it up to her as soon as he could, but he was interrupted by another squeal of delight as his mother ran up to meet them. 

He squeezed Anna’s hand quickly before she could get out of the car. “Talk later?”

For some reason, that only made her look even sadder, but she just nodded and hopped out of the car to sweep his sister into a hug. “Elise, wow! How have you already grown since this summer, huh?” she said, and despite himself he smiled. 

“Hey, Mom,” he said as he was pulled down into a tight embrace. 

“How’s she doing?” his mother asked, kissing his cheek. 

“She’s okay.”

“You’re taking care of her?”

“Of course,” he said, inwardly cringing. At least that wouldn’t be a lie much longer. 

She kissed his cheek again and freed him from the tight squeeze of her arms. “And how are your classes going?”

“Good, really good,” he said, and she beamed proudly up at him. 

“Kris!” his brother yelled from the open back door, “get your ass in here to watch the game!”

“Nate! Language!” his mother called back, shaking her head fondly as she went to hug Anna. 

Anna’s face lit up. “It’s so good to see you, Mrs. B. I brought, um, I brought a pie.”

Just as Kristoff had predicted, his mother was overwhelmed with joy and gratitude at the sight of the pie, gushing about how much she appreciated it and how impressed she was all the way inside. He followed with a smile, clapping Elise on the shoulder. 

“You guys need to visit more often,” his sister said, giving him an accusatory glance. “There’s too many boys around here now that Lilly’s in college.”

“And I won’t make that worse?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“You don’t really count as a boy. You take showers,” she said with all the wisdom fifth grade had afforded her. “And Anna makes up for you, anyway.”

“She does, doesn’t she?” he said, and Elise gagged. 

“Geez, Kris, you’re worse than the girls at school.”

He didn’t care. He tugged gently at the end of one of her dark braids. “Missed you too, munchkin.”

“Doofus.”

With that, he headed indoors to catch up with the rest of the family. 

Between his sisters asking what it was like getting to be a princess in  _ two  _ movies (“like a dream come true”) and his brothers asking not-so-subtly if this meant she got Lakers tickets for free (“I don’t know, but I’ll ask”) and his mother, to his father’s chagrin, asking dreamily what it was like acting with Hans Westergaard (so  _ that _ was that guy’s name— to his relief, Anna just shrugged and said “fine”), he didn’t even get a chance to speak to Anna alone until hours after dinner, when the rest of his family had finally gone upstairs to bed, leaving them to get the sofa bed set up. 

“Listen, baby, about earlier—“ he began, but she shook her head emphatically as she tucked in one corner of a sheet. 

“Kris, I really don’t want to do this with your family right upstairs.”

“Do what?”

“You know, break up or whatever.”

“ _ Jesus _ ,” he said, genuinely horrified. 

“Well. Sorry to be blunt. Just don’t see the point in dancing around it.”

He froze, a pillow in his hands. “Do you think I want to break up with you?”

“I don’t know. That’s why I said  _ or whatever.  _ And your sisters are probably listening to this right now, so like I said, let’s just leave it. At least til after lunch tomorrow, okay?”

She laid down on her side, curling up and facing away from him. He sat next to her, putting a hesitant hand on her shoulder. “Anna, I don’t want to break up.”

She didn’t move as she replied. “It’s okay. Seriously, I get it, all the sneaking around and how busy I’ve gotten, like— I don’t blame you. I’m not mad, I just...don’t want to do this right now. I don’t know. I’m tired.”

He leaned over so he could see her face. There were silent tears tracking down her cheeks. “Anna, baby,” he said softly, reaching to brush them away, “I mean it. I— do  _ you _ want to break up?”

She shook her head, the tears picking up speed, and he laid down behind her, pulling her snug against his chest. “I love you,” he murmured, but still she was tense in his arms. “And I’m really sorry I upset you.”

She turned to face him, and his heart ached at the exhaustion and disappointment and simple sadness muddled in her eyes. “I’m sorry if I, like, pushed you or made you feel pressured or something, really.”

“No, baby, it was all me. I promise.”

She nodded, just barely, and he gave her a reassuring smile. “I’m serious, though, I don’t really feel ready to talk about it right now,” she said, tucking her face against the crook of his neck. “Can we figure it out tomorrow?”

He settled his hands over her shoulder blades, pressing her close to him. “Of course. Whenever you’re ready. I just…fuck. I'm sorry."

“I'm sorry, too. For jumping to the worst possible conclusion."

He kissed the top of her head. "No, that wasn’t your fault. I realize now I, uh, I kind of explained myself in the worst possible way. So sorry for that, too."

"Well, we're okay now," she said, and a sigh of relief escaped him. He felt her smile against his shoulder as she spoke again. "We’ll figure the rest of it out in the morning.” She yawned against him, nestling a little closer. “Love you.”

“Love you back.”

* * *

He was awoken the next morning by Elise plaintively whispering, "Wake  _ up _ , the parade already started, and I want to watch it in here."

Anna, still nestled in his arms, nuzzled her face sleepily against his chest. He ran a hand over her hair and whispered to the girl peeking around the corner, "Can you watch it on mute or something?"

"Kris!"

He chuckled. "Okay, fine. But don't blame me when you find out what a grump Anna is before daylight."

"Fuck you," the grump in question mumbled, only loud enough for him to hear. "I'm a ray of sunshine in the morning."

Elise tiptoed closer. "Lilly taught me how to make coffee. Do you want some?"

Anna sat up then, her mood vastly improved. "Bless you, Ellie. Always knew you were my favorite Bjorgman."

They left Anna curled up on the sofa bed and tiptoed into the kitchen. Kristoff couldn't help but grin as he and his sister pushed their glasses up at the same time; they were both adopted, all his siblings were, but somehow he and Elise had ended up being just alike anyhow.

"How was school last week?" he asked, handing her the coffee scoop she couldn't quite get from an upper shelf.

"Boring. Everyone just wanted to go home for break, even the teachers. We watched Anna's movie in science the last two days because the teacher went to New York."

"Did you like it?"

"Duh! I already watched it like five times. Me and Emma watched it twice at our sleepover last week. I almost forgot and told her I knew Anna, but I didn't. I'm keeping my promise."

He gave her a high five. "Thanks, El. I know it's hard."

"I kinda like it. It makes me feel like Spiderman."

Kristoff laughed as he pulled down three mugs. "Why?"

"It's like, this super cool secret, you know? Like okay, at school I'm president of chess club and I have these big glasses--"

"Hey, I've got glasses too!"

"...but secretly I'm friends with  _ Anna Arendelle _ . I've known her my whole life. She like, changed my diapers probably."

"Nah, that was all me. She helped teach you how to walk, though."

Elise's face brightened as she stirred her cup of creamer with a splash of coffee. "Really?"

"Yeah. And then how to dance so you could have living room parties together. You could barely say my name, but 'dance, Anna', that you had down pat."

She took a sip from her mug, mirroring him once again. "Are you guys gonna get married?"

He glanced back at the living room, where Anna was finally sitting up and stretching, awoken by the smell of coffee. "Hope so."

Ellie grinned. "Me, too."

They carried the coffee into the living room as Anna finished folding up the sofa bed. She thanked Elise with a hug and Kristoff with a kiss on the cheek, which earned an exaggerated groan from the younger Bjorgman, even as she smiled. He could almost forget the tension from the previous day with Ellie sitting cross-legged between them, but then he stretched his arm over the back of the couch, his fingers brushing Anna's shoulder, and when she turned to meet his gaze there was still a hint of trepidation in her eyes.

"I'm gonna go shower," she said suddenly, rising to her feet. "El, yell if the Snoopy float comes by so I can run out and see it, yeah?"

"Mmhmm," the girl said, engrossed in a commercial about some new Disney channel movie. He tucked that little fact away in his mind for Christmas shopping and gave Anna a smile.

She smiled back at least, but there was still something hesitant about it. He deserved it, he knew, but it stung all the same.

He settled back on the sofa, nodding whenever Ellie pointed out something she liked or commented on the performers, but his mind was elsewhere, running over what he planned to say all over again. He’d had it all so clear in his mind yesterday in the car, but last night’s revelation that he’d made it sound like he wanted to break up meant he needed to start over.

An elbow suddenly jabbed into his ribs. “Quit moping, Kris.”

“Moping? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You literally just watched the Pikachu float nearly take out a whole marching band and didn’t even smile.”

“Ah, shi—  _ shoot.  _ Tell me you’re DVRing this?”

She scoffed at that. “Obviously. Lilly wants to watch all the Broadway performances, but she was up late talking to a boy again.”

“ _ What _ boy?”

“I don’t know, she won’t tell me, but— Anna! You’re back! Get Kris to stop pouting, okay? He’s annoying me.”

Anna laughed softly, still rubbing a towel through her hair. “I’ll see what I can do. Kris, you wanna shower while I dry my hair and then go for a walk?”

His heart suddenly picked up speed; he nodded mutely and headed upstairs on Anna’s heels. It still hadn’t slowed down by the time they were outside, walking slowly by the banks of the creek that ran behind his parents’ house and meandered into the woods. 

“Um,” he said finally, wishing she would at least hold his hand. “We are okay, right? Like, okay enough to figure this out?”

She nodded. “Yeah, yeah, of course.”

“You know I don’t want to, um, break up with you though, right?”

“Yeah, I believe you. It’s just...why did you say those things, then? Like, I totally get it if you don’t want to live together—“

“It’s not that,” he said quickly, “sorry to interrupt, just— sorry.”

She offered him a crooked little half smile. “Good to know. But anyway, like, just the way you explained it made it sound like you didn’t think there was going to be an  _ us _ in the future. Which was kind of weird, because you sounded so certain when Sam asked if we were in this for the long haul. So…I don’t know. Mixed messages, I guess.”

“I— it’s complicated. Because I love you, and I want to be with you for as long as possible.”

“And it doesn’t feel possible?”

“Not that! Just that...I don’t know. So much is changing right now for both of us, and I’m so happy for you, seriously. But like...what if  _ we _ change? What if you ask me to move in, and I did, and then later we fell out of love, and now it’s not just a breakup, it’s a whole big...thing? What would you do then?”

Anna chewed on her bottom lip. He resisted the urge to pull it free and kiss her.

"I don't know," she said finally. "I don't know what I'd do. I've never gotten this far with 

someone before, or even, like,  _ wanted  _ to. But I want to do it with you. Or try, at least. I don’t want to give up now in case it might get hard later.”

His heart was suddenly in his throat. "Fuck, Anna, I'm sorry for being an idiot. Of course I want to try, I just-- I don't know. I guess I thought I...I just didn't want to end up being something you regret."

"Never," she said immediately, her eyes suddenly fierce. "Even if something goes wrong. But I-- god, Kris, maybe I'm crazy, but I really don't think it will. Like, with us, I mean, enough for us to ever want to break up. I just...I don't know."

He cupped her face in his hands; his heart was still pounding, but somehow it helped steady him, holding her like this and seeing the way she looked at him, the way that this time, somehow, didn't scare him anymore.

"Me either," he breathed, and a little smile started to grow on her face. "I just-- I never get tired of you, Anna, I can spend a whole weekend with you and still look forward to calling you to say goodnight. And I thought I missed you a lot when you were in Romania, but now that I know what it's like to  _ have _ you, it's like...fuck, I'm not much good with words, but I just really,  _ really _ love you, Anna, I-- I think maybe you're it for me."

Her smile broadened. "You're it for me, too, Kris."

He leaned down to press his forehead against hers, his thumbs stroking gently over her cheekbones. "Will you forgive me?"

"Always."

He kissed her as softly as he could. "Do you still want me to move in with you?"

"Promise to split the last piece of pizza with me?"

"Of course."

"And hold my hand at the end of  _ Titanic _ ?"

"If you don't tell anyone that it makes me cry, too."

"Promise to fuck me silly when we've had a really bad day and need to--"

He laughed against her mouth as he kissed her again. "All of it, Anna, anything you can think of. Anything that means I get to come home to you."

She smiled and pulled back to look at him. "That's all I want, too. Just you."

"That's a yes, then?"

" _ Yes, _ " she laughed, "yes, I want you to live with me. And I think the only person happier about it than me will be Sven."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i might drabble some stuff i cut from this chapter later, including:
> 
> -anna talking about how suddenly all her distant cousins wanted to have a big family thanksgiving for the first time in years, but she still just did a quiet dinner with elsa and now this  
> -ellie telling anna next year she has to bring two pies, and anna just immediately saying "of COURSE" and kristoff's heart melting bc she didn't even hesitate about "next year"  
> -kristoff's parents just smiling fondly at their rowdy lil bunch of kids and anna looking just as happy   
> -lots of hand holding under the dinner table and cheesiness about what they're grateful for
> 
> (or maybe it'll end up in the next chapter WHO KNOWS but in case it never gets written, i want y'all to know all that happened)


	13. advent

“I-- you’re serious? That’s your only concern? You don’t care about the last couple months of rent?”

“Which I’ll pay, by the way,” Anna said quickly, “if you don’t find someone fast enough.”

Sven shrugged. “Security Guard Dylan already responded to my group email about it, so we’re good on that front.”

“You’re really this upset about the sofa?”

“I’m not  _ upset _ , Bjorgman, I’m disgusted by the taint that was left on it, and now I’m wishing I had chosen any other word because  _ oh god-- _ ”

“ _ Jesus _ ,” Anna yelped, “okay, yes, we’ll take the couch you’ve got now, and I’ll get one to replace this one. The exact same one if that’s what you want.”

“It’s okay if that’s too much to ask,” Sven said quickly, “I was mostly kidding, but I figured you’d be buying a new one for the house anyway so--”

Anna turned bright red. “It’s not a problem, Sven, uh...trust me.”

“Sweet. Oh, congrats, you guys, by the way. I think I forgot to say that.”

“You did,” Kristoff said drily. “We’re deeply offended.”

“ _ Super _ fucking offended,” Anna concurred.

Sven groaned. “ _ Fuck _ , okay, fine, I’ll make that carrot cake again. But that’s the only going away present you’re getting out of me.”

* * *

They were going to look at the house together one last time before she made a final decision. “It’s  _ your _ house, though, Anna,” Kristoff had said seriously. “Your name on the deed. So it’s up to you.”

“I know. I still want to make sure you like it.”

But he was right, and so she went half an hour early just to walk through it by herself. The realtor had agreed to give her a moment just to wander and take it all in. There wasn’t much furniture; the house hadn’t been lived in for a while, so there were just a few pieces for staging. Anna tilted her head in the living room, trying to picture what it would look like to have a familiar sofa, maybe an armchair, a coffee table so they could still have picnics on the floor.

And then the kitchen, which had plenty of counter space for pancakes but was currently devoid of anything, even a stove; she didn’t stay there long before making her way down the hall to the bedrooms. They were both small, but one had a lovely view of the backyard, where Kristoff had already told her he wanted to start a garden. That would be theirs, then, so she could wake up and see the sunflowers.

The other one...well. For now, maybe it would be for storage, or just a guest room in case they had visitors. Looking at it too long sent an odd feeling through her chest, making her feel almost dizzy, and she turned away. 

The front door opened then, and she emerged with a smile to see Kristoff standing in the entryway. She hadn’t seen him in four days, and so she ran to him, and he wordlessly folded her into his arms, settling one hand on the back of her head to stroke her hair.

For a few minutes, they stood and held each other, talking softly about her work and his final exams and how nice the drive up here was, and then she took him by the hand and led him through the house.

It was his first time seeing the interior; he looked over it all carefully, clearly taking note of every detail, and she loved him all the more for it. But she had eyes only for him, for the way his presence suddenly made the house feel full. It wasn’t so hard to picture the sofa now, not when she could see how he would lean over the back of it to surprise her with a kiss on the top of the head, and in the kitchen, she perched on the counter and made sure it was just the right height by leaning forward and wrapping her arms around his neck. And then down the hallway she showed him the bedroom with a mischievous smile. “This one’s going to be ours,” she said, and his eyes lingered on her lips for a moment.

She showed him the other one, too, and they both were quiet for a moment. His hand settled on her shoulder, pulling her close to his side.

“I don’t know that we’ll have much use for this one yet,” she said, peeking up at him from beneath her lashes.

He smiled fondly down at her. “We’ve got time to figure it out.”

* * *

And that was that, and suddenly Anna was standing in the middle of her own bedroom

staring at all the piles and wondering where to begin.

Elsa slipped in, still in her work blazer. “How did signing everything go at the bank?”

“Great, yeah, super easy. The mortgage guy kind of did a double-take when I came in with the realtor and kept offering me lollipops off his desk.”

“And?”

“Well, I ate them, obviously.”

Elsa snorted. “I meant how did the rest of it go.”

“Oh! Oh-- well.” Anna held up her copy of the deed. “I’m a homeowner now.”

She was quiet for a moment, toeing the only box she had bothered to put together yet. The only item in it so far was a photo album. After a minute, she dared a glance at her sister.

“Do you think Mom and Dad would be proud of me? For...this. For everything.”

Elsa squeezed her hand. “Of course. For absolutely all of it. Mom would be begging to come watch you at work so she could cheer you on from the sidelines, and Dad would be teaching you how to fix....oh, I don’t know, rusty pipes or whatever can go wrong in a house.”

Anna laughed. “Thank God I have Kristoff for that then.”

“They’d be proud of you for that, too. They always liked him.”

“You think?”

“Oh, I  _ know _ . Remember how they waited up all night to see you come home from prom?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Mom and I had placed a bet on whether or not you two would get together that night. Dad wouldn’t admit it, kept saying ‘that’s my baby girl, she’s too young for a boyfriend anyway’ but he was the one peeking through the curtains.”

Anna leaned her head against her sister’s shoulder. “I miss them.”

“Me, too.”

* * *

Rehearsals were getting more serious now that the first scenes were set to be shot at the end of the month. Not that Anna had been taking any of this lightly; she’d been driving everyone crazy by humming her songs every waking moment. Even Kristoff had very gently pulled her into his arms as she stood singing the new song that had been written for her-- “Under the Stars”, a cheesy title but really almost as pretty as “Once Upon a December-- while she made French toast in her kitchen; they’d finally been able to spend a night together, and Elsa had graciously pretended she had had plans to spend the night with Honey, anyway.

“Baby,” Kristoff had said, pressing a kiss behind her ear. “You know I love you more than anything.”

“Mmhmm,” she mumbled in between the bridge and the third verse, dipping another piece of bread.

“But can you please,  _ please _ sing something else?”

She glanced up at him, her cheeks pink. “Sorry, I know I’m being annoying, it’s just--”

He kissed the tip of her nose. “You want to get it right. I know. And I promise that it sounds amazing already.”

She had convinced him to sing for  _ her _ instead, and then they’d spent the rest of the morning laughing and eating their breakfast and going through furniture websites to pick out a bed.

That was what was distracting her when she ran into a broad chest with an armful of music, dropping her iced coffee on her shoes in the process. “Oh! Jesus fuck, I’m so sorry, I didn’t get any on you, did I?”

She didn’t dare to meet his gaze until she heard a laugh; to her relief, it was only Hans. “Don’t worry about it,” he said, his green eyes bright with amusement. “I was distracted, too, so it’s half my fault. Running lines in your head?”

“Uh-- yeah, something like that.”

“Awesome. Are you ready for our scene practice this afternoon?”

She wasn’t, but she nodded anyway. They were blocking out the dance scene, the one where Anastasia and Dmitri realized they were falling in love. She had the lines down already, and she’d been practicing the dance itself plenty with the choreographer, but it was the other stuff that made her feel nervous, the longing looks and sharp intakes of breath that made up a good  _ ohmygodIlovehim _ scene. It didn’t help that this was  _ Hans Westergaard _ , who this past awards season had been nominated for Best Actor  _ and  _ Best Supporting Actor. He hadn’t won either, but there was already talk that he’d be up again for his part in a war drama, and just the fact that his name was attached to this project was a huge deal. “You can match him, Anna, seriously,” the director, Destin, had said when he’d noticed she was nervous before their first rehearsal together. “You just haven’t had the chance to prove it yet. Well, here it is now.”

She shook her head and realized she’d spaced out before answering. “Um-- yeah. Can’t wait!”

Hans smiled at her, that mysterious grin that had spawned countless thirst tweets. “Me, either.”

* * *

Kristoff’s back was to her as he worked, fiddling with a tiny screwdriver and a massive bedpost. She knelt beside him with a weak smile; he had insisted on building the bed they’d picked himself, even though it was his only night off this week and she had offered to just get someone to assemble it for them. But that was why they’d gotten one from Ikea anyway, although they could have afforded better; Anna was paying the mortgage and for most of the items in the house so that he could spend the next year focusing on clinicals and studying for his board exams. He’d reassured her it didn’t make him feel weird to let her pay for so much, but still he didn’t want to quit his job at Starbucks entirely-- “so I can still take you out on my own dime”-- and insisted on “earning his keep”, whether that meant doing whatever he could around the little house to get it ready for them to officially move in or picking her up when she needed to make a swift exit to avoid paparazzi or just kissing her as much as she could possibly want.

“Just a second,” he said, not looking up as he finished putting two pieces together, “just gotta-- there!”

He turned to her with a grin. “It’s only taken me an hour, and I’m almost a third of the way there.”

To his horror, she burst into tears instead of laughter. “I have to go away again,” she managed to get out as he immediately pulled her into his arms.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, Anna, don’t cry. We did it before, we’ll do it again.”

“To  _ Russia _ . They want to do some location shit. For  _ three weeks _ .”

“We made it six weeks last time, hey?”

“This time it’s over  _ Valentine’s Day _ .”

Kristoff laughed gently. “So we’ll celebrate early.”

She sniffled against the collar of his shirt. “But I don’t want to leave you.”

“It’ll be okay. I know how to work FaceTime on my own and everything.”

“But I love you. And this is stupid. They can just green screen me in.”

She was being a baby, she knew; she was getting paid a stupid amount of money to go to a brand new place and stay in a hotel and wear gorgeous dresses and act alongside a bunch of people way more famous than she was. And three weeks really wasn’t bad at all, especially when now they’d be spending time every day together so they’d have more than enough chances to make up for lost time.

But still-- she loved him, and she would miss him, and she just wanted to be sad about that for a little while, and so he held her until her tears dried.

* * *

Sam had a bottle of champagne waiting for her when she stepped into his office after a long day of hair and makeup testing. Her hair was still twisted up into a regal updo she knew would take half an hour to take down and brush out; she’d have to enlist Kristoff’s help in getting all the pins out. It was rather at odds with the Buchanan High sweatshirt she was wearing, the only thing of his she could wear without attracting suspicion since people just assumed it had always been hers. Already her Wikipedia page had  _ way _ too much personal information on it, too many little details about her life that let people think they knew her.

“Two hundred fifty thousand followers today, kiddo! Quarter of the way to a mill! Lena’s over the moon.”

“Is that what you had me drive all the way over here for?” Anna asked, flopping into a chair.

Sam steepled his fingers. “No. Just wanted to, you know, check in.”

She ignored the glass of champagne he slid across the desk to her. “And you couldn’t just call me?”

“Your director did. Said he could tell you’re running yourself ragged before filming’s even started, but that he can’t get you to slow down long enough to have a chat.”

“I’m Anastasia in  _ Anastasia _ , Sam. There’s a lot to do.”

“I know,” he said gently, “and I know you can do it. But I don’t want you to burn yourself out this early on in the movie  _ or _ in your career.”

She didn’t look at him; instead, she focused on sliding her finger around the rim of the glass, wondering if she could make it ring like she used to do to cups of water in restaurants to annoy her sister.

“They hadn’t hired your permanent hair and makeup person yet. So I pulled some strings.”

She looked up then. “Really?”

“Yeah. Lucky for you Miss Nattura just wrapped some--”

“Horror movie, yeah. Trust me, I’ve heard all about it.”

“Still dating your sister, then?”

Anna grinned. “Want to come over for dinner sometime? We can make faces across the table at them when they start being gross.”

“You’re one to talk. How’s the boyfriend?”

“Great. Thanks for getting that photo taken down before it hit TMZ, by the way. I have no idea how they got it or even recognized us. We’ve been  _ really _ careful. I hardly even see him anymore, seriously.”

“I know,” Sam said with a sad smile. “And it’s only going to get worse.”

* * *

_ Sven said the 23rd is great. Looks like Friendsmas is on :) _

_ yaaaay it will be so fun _

_ how did ur last final go? _

_ haha final final _

_ Well, I think. I’m heading to the house now to meet the guys who are bringing the kitchen stuff. How is your day going? _

_ good just singing all day going to lose my voice by tonight _

_ but i’ll figure out how to say thank you for meeting those guys anyway  _ 😘

_ Please tell me this is one of the days you finish early _ .

As she was about to fire off another response, heat in her cheeks, Hans cleared his throat beside her. “Anna, hey!”

“Oh! Hey, what’s up? Want to run lines again?”

He grinned, and she returned it; that had become something of a routine for them over the last few weeks, running lines together over sandwiches in his trailer. “Yeah, of course. But right now I wanted to give you this.”

He handed her a heavy, ivory envelope; she opened it with a raised eyebrow. “What’s this?”

“Read it and see, goofball.”

She laughed as she scanned the gold-edged piece of cardstock inside. “New Year’s Eve at your place?”

“Yes, I’ve invited the whole cast. And the important members of the crew. You’re welcome to bring a plus one...if there is one, I mean,” he said, and she looked up from the envelope to meet his eyes, suddenly feeling awkward, especially when she saw the question there.

“Oh,” she said, forcing a smile, “I’ll bring Kristoff, then! My boyfriend. _ Longterm  _ boyfriend.”

Hans just gave her another one of his trademark smiles. “Can’t wait to meet him. He must be someone special to have snatched you up.”

* * *

“Do you really like it?”

He laughed as he unfolded the massive blanket. “It’s perfect.”

“It’s like, seven feet long or something. So it’s big enough even for you. And look, I got them to put a K on the bottom. So it’s official, I can’t steal it from you.”

Kristoff raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Uh-huh. If I do, you can kick me out of bed.”

“I think that breaks most of the rules we set for these presents.”

“There were only two rules!”

“Yes, and one of them was ‘it has to be a present for both of us’.”

“So that’s only half of the rules. Which is fifty percent, which isn’t a majority.”

She stuck out her tongue, and he rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “Remind me why I ever thought it was a good idea to help you with your stats homework?”

“Because I helped you with your Milton project. And because you had a  _ crush  _ on me,” she teased. “Ha-ha.”

“You definitely had a bigger one on me.”

“Oh, I did for sure,” she said cheerfully, moving from where she had been sitting on the other end of the sofa to sit on his lap, leaning back against his chest. “Especially that year because you grew like six inches.”

He unfolded the blanket all the way and draped it over them both. Anna sighed contentedly and nestled closer against his chest. “See? It can be for both of us sometimes after all.”

“Are you already falling asleep?”

She nodded against him with a yawn, her eyes already closing, and he gently nudged her shoulder. “I didn’t get to give you your present yet.”

“This is enough,” she mumbled sleepily. 

“Trust me, you’ll want to see this.”

“Mhmm.”

“Before the party. Because it’s kind of for Sven too.”

“Well, we have like two hours before they’re here. So let me nap for one.”

He kissed her forehead. “You’ll need time to set it up, though.”

“Is it a Wii?”

Kristoff blinked in surprise. “How did you—“

“You’re dropping so many hints right now it’s not even funny. Also, I tried to hide your present in the second bedroom’s closet and found it there.”

“Goddammit.”

“It’s perfect, though,” she reassured him, pressing a sleepy kiss to his jaw. “Can’t imagine a more perfect present.”

“Now you’re just trying to butter me up so I’ll stay here and hold you while you nap.”

“Is it working?”

He sighed, but a smile was playing at the corners of his lips. “Sweet dreams.”

She was already asleep. 

  
  
  
  
  
  



	14. confetti

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tbh i already published this like 10 minutes ago and realized i never wrote part of it and so i fixed it and uh...yeah i apologize if there are any other glaring errors, i just really wanted to update today and this chapter quickly morphed into a behemoth

On the nights Anna fell asleep before he did-- which was most of them, really, considering how hard she was working on the movie-- sometimes he just watched for a little while, the slow rise and fall of her chest, the flicker of her eyelids as she tumbled into dreams, the way her hands would instinctively reach for him across the sheets if he pulled away. And he would marvel for a moment at the fact that he had almost said  _ no _ to this, that he had entertained the idea that it was somehow wrong, that somehow the way they loved each other wasn’t enough to make this work.

And then, inevitably, he would have to lean over and kiss whatever part of her face wasn't hidden by her masses of tangled red hair, and she would smile without waking, and he would fall a little deeper in love with her each time.

He wouldn't have minded doing just that as the year rolled over into the next; he couldn't think of a better note to end an old era and start a new one on anyway.

But Hans Westergaard had invited Anna to some huge party at his massive, hidden mansion, and the invite said she could bring a plus one.

"And it's important, baby, otherwise I would say let's just do our own thing," she called from the bathroom. "To spend time with everyone else doing the movie outside of work, so we get along better  _ at _ work."

"I know, I know," he sighed, fiddling with his tie. "I just…"

He trailed off, but her voice, reassuring and gentle, came down the hall anyway. "I know. But it means a lot to me that you're coming. And I'm serious, the RSVPs all had small print on them saying 'no photos posted online' and these people take any kind of NDA shit seriously. So we're good on that front, too."

"But tomorrow…"

"Tomorrow we're staying in bed all day and ignoring the whole rest of the world. I promise."

He sighed and looked at his reflection again, wondering why the hell a grown man had decided to throw a theme party. At least it was "decades", and Anna had assured him she had no intention of showing up in bell-bottoms or a godawful windbreaker, either. "We'll do the fifties," she had reassured him. "Or, uh, forties or whatever. Old Hollywood shit, mainly because this is the best opportunity I have to see you in a tux."

Because he had already been thinking about another day-- hopefully sooner rather than later-- when she'd have a chance to see that, he had gracefully acquiesced. And it was worth it, really, to see the way she had beamed up at him in gratitude.

Still, parties weren’t really his thing, all the small talk and crowds and trying to decide the best place to stand or sit or whatever, especially when he often stood at least half a head taller than everyone else in the room. He knew they weren’t Anna’s favorite, either, that she loved to spend time with people but only in smaller settings.

But this was important. And so they would both put on a brave face and get through it-- or at least they would, if he could figure out what the hell he was doing wrong with his hair.

It was overlong right now, but Anna insisted she liked the way it hung down over his eyebrows. He had a feeling it really had more to do with how it was just long enough for her to tangle her fingers in it when they kissed, but he’d been forgoing a trim for couple of weeks now for her sake. It definitely didn’t scream “Old Hollywood”, though, and so Anna had helped him pick out pomade at the drugstore, which he had applied as best he could based on the tutorial Google pulled up for him. Something about it didn’t look quite right, though, the way it revealed too much of his forehead. Frowning, he removed his contacts and put his glasses on, hoping that would help to hide at least part of the vast expanse of his face that had suddenly been revealed. Anna liked it when he wore these, at least, but what about the rest of the world? Especially all these famous, gorgeous people; what would they think when they saw him wearing, as Ellie so kindly called them, “old man frames”?

(“Okay, so they are a bit...old-fashioned,” Anna had finally admitted one day. “But they look perfect on you, really. Very handsome.” He hadn’t believed her, so she’d gone on to prove it-- now he knew for certain that  _ she _ at least really did like them.)

As he was about to switch them out for his contacts again, he heard the bathroom door swing open and Anna come darting down the hall. “Don’t look yet! I’m not dressed!”

Of course he turned to look, and when he did for a moment he could have worn his heart stopped. Anna was in just a skimpy bra and panties, but her long, coppery hair fell in deep, even waves; her makeup was simple, but it brought out her eyes, and she was wearing a bright red lipstick he had never seen on her before, and she was so incredibly  _ gorgeous _ for a moment he couldn’t quite believe this was real.

He blinked, and to his surprise, she didn’t disappear. Even more shocking was the fact that the way he felt was mirrored in the expression on her face. “ _ Kris,” _ she said finally, stepping forward to press her hands against his chest. “You look _ amazing _ .”

“Have you looked at yourself lately?” he said, and she blushed.  _ God _ , he wanted to kiss her, but he didn’t want to ruin all of her hard work. Luckily, she seemed to realize what he wanted, and so she turned her face and tapped her cheek. Grinning, he leaned down and pressed his lips there.

“Did I do alright? Seriously, be honest,” he said.

She stepped back, surveying him. “Lean down a little,” she instructed, and he did. 

She ran her fingers through the front of his hair, just enough to loosen the pomade’s grip a little, and then beamed up at him. “Perfect. God, how’d I get so lucky, huh?”

He kissed her cheek again. “You look gorgeous, baby. Wish I could keep you here all to myself all night.”

“I’m not even dressed yet!”

“ _ Exactly _ .”

Anna laughed and held up the silver dress she’d laid out on the bed. “Well, the sooner we go, the sooner we can leave, yeah? So help me get dressed.”

“We can’t leave before midnight no matter what, so why not aim to get there around eleven thirty, eh?”

“People have to see me there and know I don’t think I’m above it all,” she explained as she stepped into the dress. 

Kristoff helped pull it over her shoulders and began tugging up the short zipper. The dress fell to the floor, but it clung to the curves of her body and left most of her upper back exposed. She turned to face him, looking almost nervous. “Do I look okay?”

“Anna, baby, you look so gorgeous I seriously,  _ seriously _ do not have words for it.”

She laced her fingers behind his neck, rising up on her toes. “Will you kiss me? Just one time won’t fuck up my lipstick. Probably.”

He did, as gently as he could at first, but then she pressed closer against him, deepening the kiss as his hands fisted in the back of her dress. He was tempted to keep on kissing her like this, party be damned; they could call Hans and tell her she had food poisoning or something-- but then her phone buzzed, and she pulled away with a regretful sigh. 

“That’s our ride,” she said. “At least I requested a car with the little divider thing, hey? So we can sit in the back and keep doing this.”

He carefully reached down to wipe off a smudge of lipstick at the corner of her mouth. “You worked so hard on your makeup, though.”

“That’s what makeup wipes are for. I’ll take it off and put it back on in the car,” she said cheerfully, putting one hand on his shoulder to keep her balance as she tugged on a spindly-heeled shoe. “I mean, if you _ want  _ to kiss me, that is, otherwise I can sit up front or something.”

“When do I ever  _ not _ want to kiss you?”

He proved his point in the back of the car, immensely grateful that the driver had “the little divider thing”  _ and  _ was playing music at a pointedly high volume. When the car began to slow as it mounted a long, winding driveway, Anna was still on his lap, her dress rucked up around her thighs as he pressed kiss after kiss on the long, graceful line of her throat.

“I gotta-- put it back on--” she panted. “And you--”

“Yeah, you gotta get off my lap if I’m not going to go in making a fool of myself,” he said with a laugh, pressing one final peck to the corner of her jaw.

“We can ask him to slow down a little more, give us time to take care of that,” Anna said sweetly.

“Not helping.”

She slid off his lap and pulled out her phone, quickly checking her reflection. "Okay, I'm good-- oh, shit, Kris you're  _ covered _ in lipstick!"

He bolted forward and grabbed the phone. "Fuck, but you didn't-- oh, damn it, Anna, very funny."

She was laughing so hard for a moment she couldn't respond. "Sorry-- trying to help-- your  _ face _ \--"

After a moment he realized what she was trying to say and broke out into a fit of laughter, too. "Okay, well, nothing works better than sheer terror to kill a hard-on."

The driver pulled to a halt in front of the biggest mansion Kristoff had ever seen outside of pictures. “ _ Jesus _ ,” he mumbled.

Anna was too stunned for words. He reached over and squeezed her hand, and after another moment of shock she turned to meet his eyes. Suddenly she was the one who looked nervous.

“It’s gonna be good,” he said quietly. “You know this guy, you said he’s nice. And you know these people. Plus I’m here, yeah?”

She nodded. “Okay. But if I say ‘sofa’, that’s code for ‘we’re making a run for it’, okay?”

“Got it.”

He got out and jogged around to help her down; she wobbled for a moment in her heels, but he kept his hands on her waist steadying her. He grinned; as much as he worried about her tripping over herself in these torture devices, it was kind of nice that for once she was taller than his shoulder, which put her at the perfect height for him to kiss her forehead, something he immediately took full advantage of.

Anna smoothed his lapels and straightened his tie one last time. “Ready?”

“No. But let’s do it anyway.”

* * *

She had already been immeasurably grateful to Kristoff for stepping out of his comfort zone and agreeing to come with her to such a big party, but it turned out he was a physical support, too, as they made their way across the gravel-covered driveway to the front doors of Hans’s-- well,  _ manor _ was the word that kept coming to her mind. It was hard to keep her eyes on where to place her stilettoes next when there were so many  _ windows  _ to count, so Kristoff’s steady, guiding hand on her waist was quite probably the only thing that kept her from breaking an ankle. 

The shoes were already killing her, but keeping them on meant having an excuse to lean on Kristoff all night, and she was always grateful for that, too. Just as they reached the door, she squeezed his hand, wanting to thank him one last time, but then it swung open and Hans was there, wearing a perfectly-fitted suit, his green eyes glittering beneath his perfectly coiffed auburn hair.

“Anna!” he crowed. “You made it!”

“Hi!” she chirped back, relieved that at least she was being greeted by a friendly face. “Your house, it’s-- it’s  _ amazing _ .”

“Thanks, but it’s a little too ostentatious for me,” he said with a dramatic grimace. “I’ve always been about the simple pleasures. Come in, hey? Everyone will be so happy you’re here.”

She had dropped Kristoff’s hand as they had been speaking, but now she wished she hadn’t as Hans set a hand on her back, though at least he was being a gentleman about it and kept his fingers over only the shimmery material and not the exposed skin of her spine. “Hans-- this is my boyfriend, Kristoff,” she said, turning and mouthing “ _ come on _ ” over her shoulder.

He did after a moment, still looking somewhat shell-shocked. She couldn’t blame him; it felt like they had walked into a circus with all the roiling masses of people and sounds and colors. There were Polaroid cameras scattered over every available surface, people dressed in everything from turn-of-the-century gowns to parachute pants, waiters darting in and out with impossible fancy looking drinks, and above it all what sounded like a dubstep remix of “My Way”.

“Kristoff! Nice to meet you, man,” Hans said, turning back with a proferred hand. “Haven’t heard much about you yet. Looking forward to getting to know you.”

Anna’s brow furrowed;  _ should  _ she have told Hans more about him? Before she could say anything, though, Kristoff took Hans’s hand and give it a firm shake. “You, too.”

There was a beat of awkward silence, and then they both turned and looked at Anna expectantly. “I need a drink,” she blurted out.

Hans immediately snagged one from a passing waiter’s tray and handed it to her with a little bow. “Your majesty,” he teased, a little inside joke they’d started in between takes.

Anna giggled. “Thanks, kitchen boy.”

“So, Kristoff,” Hans said, turning to the larger man with a smile. “What do you do?”

“Veterinary student.”

“Really? Wow! How’d you manage to meet our Anna, then?”

Kristoff looked like he wanted to protest at the word  _ our _ , but he smiled anyway. He was trying, but it was clear he was straining to do it. “Grew up with her.”

“So you’ve been together for years, then? God, what a dream. I’m starting to think about turning to Tinder before I die alone,” Hans said with a laugh. 

“Um...no. Since May.”

Hans raised an eyebrow. “Really? Anna told me this was a  _ longterm _ thing.”

Anna chose that moment to take a long slurp of her drink. Mercifully, the actor playing Rasputin chose that moment to sweep by and engage Hans in a discussion about the canapes. The moment they both looked away, Anna pulled Kristoff aside.

“You like him, right?”

“He’s, uh. Okay?” 

“Oh, god, are you upset about him saying I don’t talk about you? I mean, it’s true that I don’t, but that’s more because, y’know, kind of a habit to keep it all secret these days. It’s not ‘cause I don’t  _ want _ to talk about you, because seriously I could go on for days, but--”

“It’s not that. It’s that he looks like Leonardo DiCaprio in that one movie where he gets shot in the pool. It’s about money or something.”

“ _ The Great Gatsby _ ?”

“Yeah! See, the way he like, waved his hair and shit. And before you say anything--”

“Sven?”

“Yeah. We had to do a whole marathon the day after he finally won the Oscar. I liked that one way better than the cocaine one.”

Anna giggled and leaned against his shoulder. “Now I can’t unsee it. Do you think he did it on purpose? I mean, it is a decades party, and you can’t get more twenties than Gatsby.”

“I think so. I mean, he’s already got the massive house and the crazy party.”

“Do you think he knows how the story ends?”

“Who knows,” Kristoff muttered, snagging a drink of his own. “Jesus, what does he do with all this space? Is he married or anything?”

“Nope. Perpetual bachelor. Not for lack of trying, though.”

“I’ve noticed,” Kristoff said drily.

Anna blinked up at him in surprise. “What does that mean?”

“He’s into you. I can tell. I mean, I can’t blame him, but--”

“We’re just friends, though, really, I promise you don’t need to--”

“I know,” he reassured her. “I trust you. Just...watch him. Guys like this are used to getting what they want. Not that he’d hurt you or something, just...I don’t know.”

Anna was quiet for a long moment, weighing his words carefully. He truly didn’t sound jealous, and not even close to angry, just genuinely concerned. She was about to ask him what he thought she should do when Hans waved her over. “Oh my god, An,” he said between laughs, “come hear what Phil just told me about his last shoot!”

She stepped forward, but Kristoff didn’t follow. She glanced back at him for a moment, worried, but he just shook his head. “Gonna stay here so I can lean against this wall and finish this drink,” he said good-naturedly. “Come back when you get a chance, hopefully by then I’ll have enough of this in me to be fun.”

“You’re always fun,” she said, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. “Five minutes, no more.”

Five minutes quickly turned into ten when Phil transitioned into another long story, but she glanced over her shoulder and Kristoff was still there, raising his glass with a wink, and so she let herself be sucked deeper into the conversation. Another five minutes as the director Destin joined them, and this time when she glanced back to her great relief Honey, wearing a knee-length black dress that could have counted for just about any decade, had joined Kristoff in his wallflowering. She gave them both a grin, wishing she could go over, but Destin was in the middle of a slightly tipsy explanation of how he’d built his career from the ground up, and she really  _ was _ interested in it.

At last, when her drink had been drained of even the remnants of her ice, she managed to make her excuses and dart back over to the pair of far more familiar faces. “Honey!” she enthused, launching herself into the other woman’s arms. “I didn’t know if you’d be here.”  
“I’m surprised myself, honestly. I know this was supposed to be for the ‘important people’,” she said in a spot-on imitation of Hans’s drawl. “But apparently Hans realized you and I are friends, so that makes me important enough. And I agree with the boyfriend by the way. He’s definitely into you.”

“You know my name, shortstack,” Kristoff said, elbowing her with a laugh. 

“And you know mine. But anyway-- seriously, Anna, he’s making heart eyes at you right now.”

“He is not!”

“You’re not even  _ looking _ .”

“I looked at him enough. I want to hang out with you guys now.”

Honey let out a snort of laughter. “I keep forgetting you’re new. You’re gonna have to mingle with everyone whether you like it or not.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re the star of the movie, babe. Half these people only came because they’re hoping they can make a stronger impression on you and get to be part of your next project.”

“But I--”

“And they know it worked for me. Which I’m grateful for, by the way, but now they know you’re nice enough to help your friends out. So everyone wants to be your friend now.”

Anna bit her lip. “You know it wasn’t like, to pity you or anything, I know you have plenty of job offers and besides--”

“ _ Anna _ . I know. I just want you to be aware of how the night’s going to go down.”

She looked helplessly up at Kristoff; he always knew the right thing to say. Surely he would at least have a suggestion now.

But he only offered her a small smile. “Just three more hours ‘til midnight,” he said softly. “And then we’ll kiss each other when the ball drops and head straight home.”

The thought of that was all that kept her spirits up as she was dragged into conversation after conversation, more often than not with Hans grinning by her side and offering her another drink. After her college years, she was hardly a lightweight, but between the cocktails and the sheer number of people she was talking to she was starting to feel dizzy. She tried to keep her eyes on Honey and Kristoff as much as possible, even stealing a moment or two to talk to them when someone new showed up that Hans had to personally welcome, but that was proving to be more and more difficult as the night wore on and the party grew rowdier and rowdier.

At ten minutes to midnight, she hadn’t seen either of them for close to an hour. She had tried texting them both when she got a free moment, but apparently neither of them was looking at their phones. She set down her empty glass and began wandering through the crowds, wishing she’d worn even taller shoes so she could see over everyone’s perfect hair. Just as she caught sight of a familiar blond head across the room and started to make her way over, a hand closed over her wrist.

Instinctively she jerked away, but the hand only held on tighter. She turned and saw Hans grinning at her. “Just me, An,” he said reassuringly. “I was wondering if you wanted to give a speech with me?”

“I-- what? A speech? Why me?”

“Well, this is a party for the cast and crew of the movie you and I are starring in. So this is kind of your party, too, right? I thought you might want to thank everyone or let them know your hopes for the movie or whatever.”

“Oh-- oh, um, yeah. Sure.”

“Great!” 

He didn’t drop her arm as he led her over to the sweeping grand staircase in the middle of the biggest room--  _ what the hell is this even for _ , Anna found herself wondering, feeling nervous laughter bubble up in her chest,  _ just for all his big parties? Is this a weekly thing? Is this just all he-- _

“Everyone!” Hans called, his voice ringing out clearly over the masses; there was his Julliard training, perfect projection, and the room grew quiet as everyone turned to look at him. 

Her eyebrows raised in surprise; had his bowtie been silver all night? She could have sworn when she’d first gotten here it had been burgundy, but then he was talking about how honored he was that everyone had come and how excited he was for the new year and the rest of filming, and she looked away from him to give everyone her biggest, brightest, star-in-training smile. 

She had lost sight of Kristoff again; she was starting to worry she wouldn’t find him in time to give him the midnight kiss he’d promised. She had almost drowned Hans’s words out entirely as her eyes swept the crowd, but then his voice came back into focus as he squeezed her shoulder.

“And I’m so grateful for Miss Anna Arendelle!” he said, and a little cheer went up from the crowd. “Without her, there would  _ be _ no  _ Anastasia _ \-- literally. We’re lucky to have her, aren’t we?”

He grinned and looked down at her, his eyes bright, and for a moment her blood went cold; all of a sudden it occurred to her that Kristoff and Honey were terribly,  _ terribly _ right. “Um,” she said, realizing he was waiting for her to speak. “I’m--  _ we’re _ \-- lucky to have you too, Hans.”

“A toast to Anna!” he cried, and then they all raised their glasses and echoed him, and she was flattered, really, but she’d finally spotted Honey’s head in the crowd, and for some reason Kristoff wasn’t there, and now her stomach was  _ really  _ starting to tie itself in knots.

“Anything you want to add, An?” Hans asked, giving her another fond smile.

_ Oh, fuck _ , she thought; she hadn’t expected this at all. Time to improv her ass off like she hadn’t since sophomore year.

“I’m just so grateful for all of you,” she said with another bright smile. “You’re all such amazing, gifted, talented people, but more than that you’re incredibly hard-working. Each of you is integral to the success of this movie, and I’m so glad to be on such an amazing team.”

She lifted her glass. “To...you guys! To everyone!”

Everyone laughed and raised their glasses in return. She took the brief moment of silence to search the crowd for Kristoff again, and at last she sighted him, standing at the far end of the room, raising his glass higher than anyone.

She held his gaze, and he offered her a reassuring smile. She glanced up at Hans, hoping that he was done so she could make her way down the stairs, but for once he wasn’t looking at hers.

“Thank you, Anna,” he said with a grin. “What a great way to end the year-- and great timing, too! Thirty seconds, everyone!”  
Another cheer rose up from the room, louder than ever. Anna bit her lip; in these heels, it would be difficult, but she was _pretty_ sure she could make it across the room in time. Just as she started to step forward, Hans caught her wrist. 

“Hey,” he said, “you gotta help me do the countdown! And leading everyone in singing ‘Auld Lang Syne’, it’s not the new year without it!”

“But I--”

“Ten--” he started, and she joined in with him on nine, turning back and meeting Kristoff’s eyes once more, hoping he could see the apology in her own.

“Three-- two-- one-- happy New Year!” Hans called out, and she realized with a jolt that he was somehow standing closer to her than before, his eyes on her mouth. 

Just as he leaned forward, she turned away with a bright smile, forcing herself to laugh as silvery flakes of confetti rained from somewhere. “ _ Should auld acquaintance be forgot _ ,” she began, thanking her lucky stars when someone at the base of the stairs joined in.

Mercifully, no one seemed to remember the words to the second verse, and so as soon as everyone started clapping, she gave a quick bow and hopped down the stairs, not bothering to even give Hans a parting smile. She slid through the crowd, ignoring the people who tried to stop her and give her thanks or a grin or a drink, and didn’t stop moving until at last she had reached Kristoff.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” she panted, already reaching up to loop her arms around his neck. “I--  _ fuck _ , I had no idea he would do that.”

There was confetti in his hair, big silver flakes of it, but he didn’t seem to care. Instead he leaned down to press his forehead against hers.

“It’s okay,” he said, his voice husky as his breath ghosted over her lips. “Seriously, it’s still yesterday in Alaska.”

“I’ll make it up to you,” she promised, leaning up on her toes. “But I’m not waiting a whole ‘nother hour to finally kiss you.”

He was grinning when their lips met, and she couldn’t help but smile back. When at last they pulled apart, breathless, she said again, “I’m really sorry, Kris, I’ll spend the whole rest of the year making it up to you, and the next one if you’ll let me have that one too, and the next one, and--”

“You can have them all,” he promised, wrapping his arms around her waist. “You don’t even have to ask.”

“I want to remember this moment forever,” she said, giving him another quick kiss. “Even if it’s two minutes past midnight.”

“Well, that’s what all those cameras are lying around here for, right? We can just grab one and take a picture.”

“Or our phones,” she teased, but he shook his head.

“This way, we can have it printed out so we can stick it on the fridge,” he explained, pulling away from her so he could grab a camera from where someone had dropped it on a sofa. “Our first actual decoration.”

They managed to snag one of the camera operators who was all too willing to take their picture. Anna thanked him profusely, and he actually  _ blushed _ before darting off. She started shaking the printed square immediately, too excited to wait, and Kristoff laughed. “I don’t think shaking them actually works.”

“Well, I gotta get this nervous energy out  _ somehow _ .”

A few more moments, and it was there in their hands; both of them grinning so broadly it made something tighten in her chest to see it. Kristoff’s arm was draped around her waist, and she was leaning into his side as closely as she could, both of them with confetti everywhere.

“Perfect,” Anna breathed, and somehow suddenly all of it really, truly was. 

* * *

They left the party shortly afterwards; they lingered only long enough to give Honey a  goodbye hug before meeting their driver outside. Anna, exhausted by all the mingling, spent most of the ride with her legs slung over Kristoff’s lap, leaning close to his side. She sighed, and he reached with the arm that wasn’t draped over her shoulders to squeeze her hand.

“This is just...so much better than all of that,” she said softly. “I just...wow. I don’t know if that part of Hollywood is for me.”

“Me either. But I’ll do it again if you need me to.”

“Why are you so good to me?” she asked, nuzzling her head against his neck. 

“Because I love you,” he said, kissing her forehead. “All of you. On nights like this and on nights where we’re home trying to program a microwave and on nights when we don’t even do anything but lay on the sofa and whine about how bored we are.”

She laughed at that. “I love you, too. I hope I’m doing an okay job of showing it.”

“You are,” he reassured her. “And it makes me love you even more.”

They were quiet the rest of the way home; he thought at first that Anna had dozed off on his lap, but then as soon as the driver made the turn onto their street she sighed and pulled away from him, reaching down to pull her shoes on. “Just a few more steps in these,” she muttered.

“You don’t have to put those back on if you don’t want to.”

“Then I’ll have to walk in barefoot, and then I’ll get dirt all over my feet and--”

“So I’ll carry you. Problem solved.”

And he did, while she draped one arm over his shoulders and let her shoes dangle from the other hand. “I seriously,” she said, punctuating each word with a kiss to the underside of his jaw, “don’t deserve you.”

“‘S’okay. You can carry  _ me _ in next time,” he teased as he crossed the threshold.

She tossed her shoes aside as soon as the door closed behind them; to his relief, they banged against the back of the sofa and not the lamp his mother had just given them for Christmas. He set her back down, but before he could pull back she tugged him close, rising up on her toes to kiss him hungrily. He met her with equal fervor, his hands already tugging up the hem of her dress. His hands lingered on her hips under the shimmery fabric as he relished the illicit feel of the fabric brushing over his wrists, as if they were still at the party, sneaking around and trying to find a dark corner. 

Anna’s lips drifted downward, taking her time with his neck while she tugged gently on his tie, keeping him within reach. She pressed gentle kisses and quick nips against his skin in equal measure, little sighs of contentment escaping her in between. When she let her tongue flick over the pulse point under his jaw he gasped, his hands tightening over her hips as he pressed closer. She smirked up at him through her lashes, her eyes smoldering; they hadn’t even taken any clothes off yet, but he had never felt more aroused. 

“I love you,” he said, kissing her soundly before she could resume her ministrations.

She melted against him, sliding one hand up to thread through his hair, and he sighed in relief mid-kiss. She laughed and pulled back. “Let me guess, you’re ready to get all that stuff out of your hair?”

“I’ve been ready since the second I put it in.”

“Want to do this in the shower, or—“

“No. Well, yes, but first… _ god _ , Anna, you’re always so beautiful,” he whispered, and she blushed, as if he hadn’t already told her so a thousand times. “But tonight...Jesus, you in this dress, and your hair like that—“

“Want me to do this more often?”

“God, yes. But then I don’t know if either of us will ever leave the house again.”

The fingers she still had in his hair tightened slightly, drawing him closer. “Why not?”

“Because tonight,” he said, kneeling down before her as he tugged her flimsy panties down her freckled legs. “all I could think about the whole goddamn party was how I couldn’t wait to get you home and fuck you while you wore this dress.”

Anna stilled for a moment, her eyes wide, and for a moment he worried he had been too intense. But then she stepped out of her panties and caught him by the lapels, tugging him back up to kiss her. “You’ve got to talk to me like that more often. Starting now.”

“Bedroom?” 

“No. Here.”

Kristoff let his fingers slide up between her thighs until they pressed against her, curling and stroking and dragging a moan from somewhere deep inside her as she started to tug at his jacket. “What do you want me to do, baby?” he asked. 

“Fuck me against this wall. And then carry me to bed and do it again.”

He leaned in and kissed her hard before pulling his hand away from her just long enough for her to help him out of his jacket and shirt. Anna whimpered as his fingers grew more insistent inside her and started trying to find his zipper without breaking eye contact. “ _ Fuck _ me, Kris,” she said, just enough of a whine in her voice that a shudder rolled down his spine. 

“Thought we agreed we had all year for this,” he said, trying to tease her though his voice came out in a pant against her shoulder as her fumbling hand brushed over him with just enough pressure that his hips bucked forward.

“So let’s start the year with a bang,” she said, and then laughed breathily as he pushed her hand aside to shove his pants down himself. “A bang, Kristoff get it?”

“Dad jokes right now?” he said drily, drawing one of her legs up to hook around him before he pressed into her, groaning when he felt how ready she was for him. “ _ Fuck _ , Anna.”

“Mhmm,” she managed to say, adjusting the angle of her hips so he could fill her more deeply. “If we stay all serious and sexy, then we’re not us, are we?”

He huffed out a laugh against her neck, feeling her fingers dig into his shoulders, begging him to find some way to get closer. “Guess not.”

“I did make you promise to fuck me silly that one time, so I guess this is the fuck and the--  _ oh _ , fuck, do that again.”

He did, and a few moments later she cried out, curling her hands tighter in his hair. “ _ Fuck _ , I love you,” she managed to gasp out as he clutched at her bare skin, tugging her flush against him as with a final thrust he found his own release.

He pulled back and kissed her, his lips gentle against her swollen mouth. “Love you back.”

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you al for making the bang joke in a comment on the last chapter lol this one's for you


	15. new year

"Why is anyone calling me at eight in the morning on New Year's?"

She burrowed deeper under the blankets, squeezing her eyes shut and willing the whole damn world to just shut  _ up _ . She hadn’t thought she’d had much to drink last night, but her head ached, and her mouth was fuzzy, and they had never made it to the shower so now she was pretty sure there was lipstick and mascara smeared all over her face, but more importantly this was  _ their day _ , and she didn’t want  _ anything _ to ruin it.

"It's not just anyone, baby, that's Sam's ringtone," Kristoff said, his voice still rough with sleep, as he gently rubbed a circle between her shoulder blades.

She ignored it anyway.  _ Anything _ definitely included overeager calls from her agent who was still somewhat giddy at her newfound fame. Instead she focused her attention on Kristoff’s bare chest, pressing little kisses to it and smiling faintly when she felt his heartbeat accelerate beneath her touch.

Eventually, the phone went silent, but she didn't even have time to sigh in relief before it started ringing again. Kristoff pulled away from her just enough to get the phone and set it on the bed, accepting the call. "Hey, Sam. You're on speaker."

"Hey, kid. And hey to Anna, too. I'm sorry to call this early, wish I wasn't up, either."

"Just tell me what it is, Sam," Anna said, reluctantly turning over so her voice wouldn't be muffled against Kristoff's skin. "So we can all get it over with and get back to bed."

"Good news or bad news?"

"Good first."

"You've gained a thousand new Twitter followers in the last...uh...half hour? And everyone's excited to see you really can sing."

For a moment she was confused; how were those connected, and why did he need to tell her right now?

And then it hit her.

"Oh, god, Sam," she said, her voice already shaking. "But Hans said…"

"Someone didn't listen. They filmed the two of you singing 'Auld Lang Syne'. And, uh...people already noticed you guys matched each other. And the confetti. And came to...conclusions."

Kristoff stiffened beside her. "Can't you get it taken down?" he asked.

"Three different sources leaked it. And it's been reported on already. It happened so fast-- Lena found out half an hour after the first tweet, and by then I was already fielding interview requests for you. By the time we got all the official sources to delete it…"

"A bunch of random people will have already saved it," Anna said, her voice tight. "So it's here to stay."

Sam sighed. "This is on me and Lena, kiddo. Should've been more on top of this, shouldn't have encouraged you so much to go. I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault," Anna said, her vision quickly growing blurry.

"How do you want to handle this?"

"I don't know, Sam."

"I know it's hard, but the sooner we--"

"I said I don't  _ know _ ," she snapped.

For a moment there was only silence. When Sam spoke again, his voice was soft. "I'm sorry, Anna. Let me talk to Lena. We'll come up with a couple of options. You call me later when you're ready, okay?"

She didn't respond. After a moment, Kristoff cleared his throat. "She says okay. Thanks, Sam."

He hung up the phone and tossed it across the room, where it landed in the laundry basket. "Hole in one," Anna said weakly, and burst into tears.

He didn't speak; he just put his arms around her as she sobbed into her hands, holding her close against his chest. "One fucking day," she choked out. "I wanted one fucking day to just be us again."

"I know," he murmured, pressing a kiss to her temple.

"I don't know what to do. Like, where to even start, I--"

She trailed off, too confused and overwhelmed to begin to put it all into words. Instead she turned over in Kristoff's embrace to tuck her chin over his shoulder, inhaling the familiar warm scent of him, and fought to hold back a fresh wave of tears.

"I just want to go back to sleep," she said; really she wanted to go back to this summer, when she had so hated the long stretches of empty days and taken for granted the seemingly endless hours they had spent together laughing and talking and kissing each other senseless and never once imagining how hard it was going to be.

"Then sleep, baby," Kristoff murmured, and by the way his arms tightened around her she knew he wanted the same.

* * *

She hadn’t meant to  _ actually _ fall asleep, had intended to lay there all morning with him, letting herself be comforted even though they both already knew the fallout from this would hurt him, too. But suddenly she was blinking awake, her head pounding and her mouth dry, as Kristoff carefully wriggled out from beneath her; somehow he had ended up on his back with her curled around and over his side, her head pillowed on his chest.

“Kris?”

“Go back to sleep,” he said softly as he slid out of bed. “I’ll be right back.”

“No, my head hurts,” she mumbled, rubbing at her eyes as she followed him. “I wanna drink some water.”

“Okay. I’m gonna take a shower.”

For a moment she felt nothing but contentment as she watched him stretch, the muscles in his back rippling with the movement, and amble out of the room and down the hall wearing nothing but low-slung sweatpants. She considered following after him and surprising him in the shower-- she really did want to get all the hairspray out, and there was room for both of them, and he surely wouldn’t mind, and then she remembered the morning’s phone call and felt a cold wave of dread wash over her, tears already pricking at the back of her eyes.

How many more times had the video been shared? How many more people had seen it and wondered if she and Hans were dating? How many people had already been calling Lena asking for a comment on her relationship status?

Now she didn’t feel like crying; she felt like throwing up. What had she gotten Kristoff into? She didn’t particularly care about what people thought about her, so long as they still  _ liked _ her, but he hadn’t asked for any of this, had never done anything but support her, and now he was faced with either becoming a public figure or watching the whole world believe she was with someone else. And he started clinicals next week, and she was going to be insanely busy as they rushed to get as much done as possible before going to Russia, and already they had both been so stressed and--

“Pull yourself together, Anna,” she muttered under her breath, pinching her arm to force herself back into the present moment. “Throwing a pity party won’t fix it.”

She retrieved her discarded phone from the hamper and shot off a quick text to Sam, asking if they could do a conference Skype call in half an hour.  _ And Kristoff will be in on it if he wants _ she added in a followup message.  _ He’s part of this too _ .

_ Sure _ , came the reply only a couple of minutes later.  _ Lena and I think we have some ideas worked out. And of course, no problem. _

“Kris?” she called, padding down the hall and slipping into the bathroom. “We’re gonna do a video conference at ten-thirty. I told Sam you’ll be there. If you want to, I mean.”

He pulled aside the shower curtain, shampoo still in his hair. “Of course.”

He said it so easily, without any hesitation, that she couldn’t help but kiss him. He grinned when she pulled away and asked, “Care to join me?”

“We’ll be late for the call then.”

“So we’ll just kiss. And you can make sure I don’t have any more lipstick on my back.”

“Well. When you put it  _ that _ way…”

They were only five minutes late, both of them still rosy-cheeked and damp as they set the laptop on the kitchen table and crowded next to each other. Anna was still grinning when the dial tone began, but the moment she saw Sam and Lena’s somber expressions her smile swirled away as if it had been swept down the drain with the bubbles.

“Sam and I have been talking all morning. We’ve put together three options,” Lena said without preamble. “Option one, you come out and tell people about your relationship with Kristoff. Option two, you say nothing and hope that people forget about this. Which they won’t unless someone else does something juicier, but it  _ is _ an option. And option three...we lean into this. Drop some hints that you and Westergaard actually are dating. I can get in touch with his people, see if they want to set up an arrangement, the whole shebang.”

Anna felt her cheeks grow hot. “Why would I ever do that?”

“You’ve gained ten thousand followers between Twitter and Instagram just this morning, while most of the world is still in bed hungover. He’s a huge star, and doing that would raise your profile and the movie’s. It’d be a huge boost to your career, and it wouldn’t have to be forever.”

Anna pressed her lips into a thin line, not trusting herself to speak. Sam, looking torn himself, said, “It’s up to you, kiddo. But we can make lemons outta lemonade.”

“I’m not going to  _ cheat _ on my boyfriend.”

“It’s not cheating,” Lena cut in, “it’s acting. Same as you kissing him onscreen.”

“It’s  _ different _ , it’s--”

“I think she should do it,” Kristoff said suddenly. 

For the second time that morning, Anna thought she was going to be sick. She didn’t dare to look at him; instead she kept her gaze just above the top part of the screen, focusing intently on the cactus they had bought last week to keep in the living room. “Because I know you want a pet someday,” he had told her, “but we gotta make sure we’re responsible enough for one, and I figured that’s a good place to start, and yes, before you ask, we can name it.”

Sam was saying something, but she couldn’t hear him over the roaring in her ears. Kris responded, and from the corner of her eye, she saw him nod. “Okay, then,” Lena said, “Anna, I can call his team tonight if you--”

“No!” Anna said, horrified that any of them were even considering it. “I’m not--  _ Jesus _ fucking Christ, I could never just-- just  _ do  _ that…”

“Hang on,” Kristoff said, turning off their video and audio and muting the computer before reaching over to clasp her hands. “Anna, baby…”

His eyes were too soft, too full of love; that made it worse, somehow, that he thought this was the right way to love her. “I don’t ever want to hold back your career. We’ll still know the truth, right? That’s what’s important.”

She shook her head fiercely. “No. I--  _ no _ . It just feels wrong, Kris. I hate keeping us secret, but I’d hate just blatantly  _ lying _ about it even more. And I don’t want to boost my career like this, with something just...made-up. And--  _ fuck _ , when you weren’t there I realized you and Honey were right, and I...god. I don’t care if that’s the best option. I don’t want to take it.”

He squeezed her hands. “Okay.”

“Okay?”  
“Yeah. Do you...do you want to go public then?”

“Do you?”

His voice was unsure. “I...can, if you want me to. I’ll just...you know, warn the clinic I’m working with in case of--”

“No. Nope. Don’t say anything else.”

“Anna--”

It was her turn to squeeze his hands. “Be one hundred percent honest with me right now, Kristoff. This isn’t just about me. What do  _ you _ want?”

She held his gaze, watched as a sadness crept into his eyes and knew that he was going to break her heart and put it back together in one fell swoop. “You. Even if I have to share you with the world. Whatever that means, whatever I have to do, I just...I want to share a life with you, Anna. My  _ whole _ life, actually, if we can swing it. And maybe someday I’ll be able to be what you need and be able to be in the spotlight with you and--”

“ _ Kris _ , baby, I--” 

She was starting to tear up again. “You’re  _ already _ what I need. And I-- I want the same thing, even if you’re never ready to go public. And I love you  _ so _ much, and I’m so sorry that any of this is even on the table.”

He leaned forward to press his forehead against hers. They both drew in a deep breath that escaped in huffs of laughter when they realized what they had done. “Love you back,” he murmured, giving her a soft kiss. “Should we, uh, turn our video back on and finish the call?”

“If we have to.”

Lena was tapping her fingers impatiently; she stopped, looking embarrassed when the call resumed. “Did we come to a decision?”

Kristoff looked over at Anna; she nodded firmly. “Yes. We’re taking option two.”

“Are you sure? This is an opportunity to--”

“Get a new publicist? Interesting suggestion.”

Lena’s mouth snapped shut. Kristoff and Sam both shot her a surprised glance; she was never harsh like this.  _ Well, _ she thought,  _ times are changing in more ways than one _ .

“Alright, then,” Sam said at last. “Whatever you want, kiddo. Guess we’ll just...wait and see.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> probably the least fun chapter of this fic lmao


	16. not enough

Kristoff had always been a patient person. He wondered sometimes if it had started when his parents had adopted his oldest sister, or a few years before that when he had been a ward of the state waiting to be wanted, or perhaps he had just been born this way, stoic and solid, slow to anger and quick to forgive.

The magazine display in the checkout lane was testing that right now. 

She had been excited about that photoshoot with People just a couple of weeks ago. “They want me to be on the cover!” she had called to tell him on her way home from Sam’s office. “And do an article about, y’know, my rise to fame and stuff. I mean, it’s not Vogue or anything so it’s not a _huge_ deal, but still!”

He didn’t really recognize her on the cover. They had slimmed her down for some reason, when just last week she had come home from a doctor’s visit upset because the doctor had told her he was worried about the rate at which she was losing weight when she had already been slender. “I just don’t have time to eat on set sometimes,” she had explained to Kristoff as they went through the grocery store together, both of them in sweatshirts with the hood pulled up. “And then I’m dancing all day, and then I’m stressed as fuck, and I just…”

(He’d packed her lunch every day since then and left a note in each bag. She sent him a picture one day of all of them taped up around her mirror.)

Somehow worse than that, though, was the little blurb in splashy pink letters: _Anna Arendelle Rises To Fame...And Falls In Love? Find Out More On Page 36!_

She’d done the interview before the Hans debacle, and when they’d asked if she had ever been in love before she had said, “Oh, absolutely. And it’s the most amazing, wonderful thing that’s ever happened to me. I’d take that over the fame any day.”

It had been romantic when she had told him about it later that night when they laid tangled in bed together. It was less romantic now knowing that it was followed up in the article with a whole paragraph about her New Year’s duet with Hans Westergaard.

Between the two of them, they had almost all of the magazines on the rack covered, most of them promising “details about their budding romance inside!” One particularly abhorrent one actually had a picture of _Kristoff_ next to her one day sitting on a park bench; he’d had his hood on, and she’d made the mistake of keeping hers off and leaving that unmistakable red hair on display. Still, he had no idea how anyone would be stupid enough to think he was Hans, considering he had a good five inches and thirty pounds at least on the other man. Then again, the same magazine promised proof Prince William was a lizard.

He turned that one around so no one else could see it, and then picked up a Twix-- Anna’s favorite-- and threw it in the cart. On second thought, he grabbed another; he needed one, too.

* * *

"Damn, is that really gonna work under latex gloves?"

Kristoff jumped and slammed his laptop shut. "Jesus, didn't anyone ever tell you it's rude to look over people's shoulders?"

The vet tech grinned. "Yeah. But I think when you see your favorite intern looking at engagement rings, you can make an exception. That bloodwork came back clean, by the way. We can send him home tomorrow."

"Thanks, Ryder."

The other man plopped down in the seat across from him. "Pay me back by finally telling me more about this girlfriend."

He groaned. "Why are you so invested in this?"

"I already watched all the good stuff on Netflix. Now I'm bingeing coworker drama. Casey and Paul are fucking, by the way, which is why--"

"They suddenly both started volunteering for kennel clean-up, yeah. Obvious."

"So give me something better to talk about. Like why you were seriously looking at a _heart shaped_ stone."

"It's romantic!"

"It's cheesy. She'll hate it. Probably."

"How do you know so much about women?"

Ryder waggled his eyebrows. "I'm kind of a love expert."

"Didn't you tell me once you were perpetually single?"

"Exactly. I know exactly why to avoid all the bullshit. Stop changing the subject. What's her name?"

"Anna," Kristoff said before he could stop himself, and Ryder grinned.

* * *

  
  


_had to talk to hans today bc we r shooting stuff together again_

_he was super apologetic_

_said it was a waiter who filmed n leaked it n that he called the company_

_Do you believe him?_

_idk_

_he said the bowtie thing was to match the confetti not me_

_i think i believe that part at least i mean why else would he have had a silver one lying around_

_Maybe he already had some ready no matter what color you wore._

_idk i think that’s too creepy even for him_

_it is right?_

_god i can’t think about that today_

He waited a long time before texting her again, keeping his focus on the puppies he was giving their first shots instead of why today was apparently the wrong day to think about just what Hans would do to capture her attention. As hard as clinicals were and as exhausting as it was, this was the work he had dreamed of doing his whole life, and the fact that it required his full attention when he most needed a distraction from the rest of the world was the cherry on top right now.

But then the puppies were vaccinated, and it was already four o’clock, and all that was left to do for the day was check on the animals who were staying in the kennels overnight, and his mind couldn’t help but wander as he went from cage to cage.

“I mean, even if that _is_ what she’s filming today,” he said to a cat recovering from minor surgery as he held out a toy for it to bat around, “it’s not a big deal. I mean, she’s an actor, right? And anyway it’s for the movie, so no one else will see it yet, and everyone will know it’s fake. So it doesn’t bother me.”

The cat stopped playing and gave him a look that said _even I know that’s bullshit, buddy._

Anna had gotten home before him for once that night. She was already in the shower, and she didn’t emerge until he’d already cooked dinner and was half-considering digging in to his plate. “Oh! Hey, baby,” she said as she came into the kitchen, still only wearing her towel. “I thought I heard you in here.”

“Jesus, Anna, how hot did you have the water? You look like a lobster.”

“Nice to see you too,” she said, trying to tease, but she looked away from him instead of coming over to greet him like she always did with a kiss.

He went to her instead and stood before her, not touching her like his heart was screaming for him to do; she leaned away, just barely enough to confirm his suspicions.

“You had to do a kissing scene today, didn’t you?”

She only nodded.

“It wasn’t really you guys,” he said softly. “Just your characters. Did he-- did he try anything?”

“No, not at all. He was a perfect gentleman, and it went just fine, and after he made sure I wasn’t bothered since he knew I was kind of upset about all the hubbub but...I don’t know, Kris. I don’t know what’s acting for him and what isn’t.”

A tear slid down her cheek and spattered on the floor. Still he didn’t touch her, waiting to let her make the first move. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

“Me too. I’m sorry I...god. I’m sorry for everything.”

“I’m not upset about it, though,” he lied. “In case you were worried.”

She stepped closer to him then, pressing her still-damp forehead against his chest, and he wrapped his arms around her, letting his thumb rub gentle circles over her shoulder. _This is why_ , _Kristoff_ , he reminded himself, _this is why you can’t tell her._

“I love you,” she said, sounding so forlorn he could have sworn he felt a little crack open up in his chest.

“Love you too. More than anything.”

  
  


* * *

He still didn't understand exactly how to use Twitter, but he did know enough to understand that when he logged in and saw stuff about Anna before he even searched her name, something big was happening.

 _Exclusive new behind the scenes photos from_ Anastasia _! Click here for more:_

It already had six thousand retweets, and dozens of replies all screaming about the photo of Hans and Anna clinging to one another. They were in full costume, surrounded by cameras, and the photo was grainy, but still he couldn't help but zoom in on Anna's face, the way she gazed up so lovingly at Hans, the same way she used to look at _him_ before she started running so low on time. Now it seemed he only ever saw her when she was asleep or halfway there.

"Didn't take you for a Disney fan, Bjorgman," Ryder said from behind him.

"Not Disney. It's Fox," he muttered, knowing it was useless to rebuke him for peeking yet again.

"My sister works on that set," Ryder said proudly. "She does Anna Arendelle's hair and makeup."

"...Honeymaren is your sister?"

"...what the fuck? I thought _I_ was the nosy one. How the hell do you-- oh my _god_ , is _that_ your Anna? The one you’ve known since high school and you _live_ with and--”

Kristoff stood up suddenly, his chair screeching with the movement. “You can’t tell anyone,” he said, his voice unnaturally harsh. “I’m _serious_.”

For once, Ryder looked serious. “Jesus, man, no need to go all ‘I’m six-foot-four on me’. We’re friends. I wouldn’t fuck you over like that.”

His heart was pounding. He could trust Ryder-- he _wanted_ to, at least, but it had been a secret for so long, and already even without other people knowing his life had been upended, and if it got any worse he might have to--

“Kristoff. Seriously, man, I’ll forget you said anything.”

Ryder looked wounded somehow as he turned and left. Feeling guilty, Kristoff called after him, “Wait, it’s just--”

Ryder glanced back over his shoulder. “We’ve all got our shit. I’m here to talk if you need.”

He walked away, and Kristoff found himself standing alone in a room silent except for the buzzing of the fluorescent lights and his own breath, harsh and heavy in his chest.

  
  


* * *

Sweat poured down his back as he ran harder than he ever had before, his legs pumping like he was desperately trying to get somewhere that remained forever just out of his grasp. 

He had woken up that morning to an empty bed and a post-it on the fridge with an apology. _Meeting with Sam before filming, completely forgot. So sorry xo_

She hadn’t even remembered to grab her lunch from the fridge. She probably had forgone breakfast too, and they were in the thick of filming now, doing the huge dance scenes that seemed to take all day and half the night and left her so exhausted sometimes he had to help her undress.

Last night had been one of those nights, and the night before, and this night would be the same, and his lungs were burning, and he’d already gone five miles, sprinting the whole way, and by the end of the day he would be too sore to move, but he still didn’t know what the hell to do and so he just kept running.

* * *

He was covering the front desk today for the receptionist, whose daughter had just had a baby; normally he wouldn’t have volunteered for something like this, would have wanted to stay doing what he knew best and getting as much experience working with the animals as he could, but as much as he hated talking on the phone to people, he knew he was likely to do more harm than help in the back of the clinic today.

Mercifully, the phones hadn’t been busy so far that morning. He stared, distantly curious, at his hand as it rested on the mousepad, trembling as if he wasn’t sitting perfectly still in a room that was by all standards a little over warm.

A styrofoam cup filled with shitty breakroom coffee appeared just in front of his fingers. “We’ve been taking bets on how long you’ll last out here without falling asleep,” Ryder informed him. “I said another hour, but it was looking iffy for a second there, so I brought you this.”

“Thanks, man.”

He ignored the cup and went back to watching his hand. He didn’t know a lack of sleep could do this. He’d have to keep that in mind next time he was scheduled for a surgery the next morning, would have to find some way to fall asleep in spite of his own mind.

“I, uh, I told my sister I know you. And that I know about it. If that’s okay, I mean,” Ryder said hurriedly. “She’d told me before about hanging out with Anna, and so I just kinda put two and two together and assumed she knew.”

“‘S fine. She’s known the whole time.”

“I, uh, I asked her if she knew why it was a secret. I could have asked you, I know, but, uh...you know how you are with secrets. Figured if I wanted the truth--”

“Just tell me what you want to say. Please,” Kristoff said, taking a sip of the lukewarm coffee in the futile hope it would help.

“Just...that it sucks. Especially with this shit with them saying she’s dating Hans Westergaard. Wish I could tell you ‘I get it’ or something. But I don’t, so I, uh, just...yeah. But I hope the, y’know, engagement ring thing that I saw you looking at that one time...I hope it works out.”

Kristoff ran his hand through his hair. “Yeah. Me, too.”

* * *

“They seriously won’t just let you call in sick?”

“I mean, I _could_ , but at this point, I’m in all the scenes that are left, and I can’t just halt production for a whole day just because I’m sore, especially when we’re going to Russia in two weeks, and they’re all depending on _me_ , and I can’t just--”

“You sprained your wrist,” he said flatly. “This is more than just being sore.”

“I know, but we already filmed one scene with it, I got Honeymaren to put some foundation on it so you can’t see the--”

“ _Anna_ ,” he said, his voice so strained she finally went quiet.

He grabbed one of her makeup wipes off the bathroom counter and came back to where she was perched on the edge of the bed. He took the injured wrist in his hand as carefully as he could and started gently dabbing at the nearly-invisible lines of makeup. She winced, and that crack in his chest widened a little more, deepening further as the green and brown smudges faded into view.

“Jesus,” he muttered, and her fingers curled into a fist as she tried to pull away, embarrassed. “Anna, no, I just-- how did you manage this?”

“There was this stunt with the train scene, and nobody else was going to have a stunt person do it, and so I...I wanted to try and see if I could do it, but I just...I don’t know, Kris, I just fucked it up, I guess.”

He bit back everything he wanted to say; what good what it do, anyway, when everybody else seemed to be encouraging her to push herself this way? Instead, he leaned down and pressed a featherlight kiss to her palm. “Let me get something to put on it.”

When he came back a few minutes later with a bag of frozen peas wrapped in a towel, she had already curled up on her side and fallen asleep, still fully dressed. He sat beside her, lifting her head onto his lap. She still didn’t wake up, and so he carefully raised her injured wrist, holding it gently as he could as he pressed the makeshift cold compress against it. 

He stayed holding her that way, for a long, long time, until the peas had thawed, and then he went to the kitchen and threw them out and leaned over the sink and splashed cold water onto his face, wondering how much one person could bear.

* * *

Mid-February had finally rolled around with all its gray skies and sappy pink storefront displays. She was leaving in thirty-six hours, and he hadn’t seen her since the night before, because he’d gotten up two hours earlier than normal to come in early so he could leave early and take her out on the date they’d been planning since even before New Year’s, the one to make up for her being gone for the next three weeks and missing their first Valentine’s together.

It wasn’t that he gave a single fuck about the holiday; it was that _she_ did, and so he’d put his heart into planning it all out: they were going to drive outside of the city limits, just enough that anyone who saw them might do a double take but still keep walking, but not so far that they would get back home too late for anything else. He’d found a diner just like one they used to hang out at in high school, one where they could order a giant strawberry milkshake to dip their fries into and spend all the quarters they could find in her car on playing cheesy old love songs from the sixties, one where if they got lucky they could risk holding hands under the table without anyone seeing.

He was already half-dressed after showering off the day’s stress, expecting her to come through the door any minute, when his phone buzzed.

_i’m so sorry_

He was half-tempted to throw the phone out the window. Maybe if he didn’t read the rest of the message it wouldn’t come true.

He looked again anyway, that now-familiar crack in his chest widening into a full-blown chasm.

_i’m so sorry, something happened with the plane tickets and then the schedules changed and so they want us to have a meeting_

_hans said we can do it at his place_ (🤮) _since we’re all tired of the set_

_but at least that’s towards where you said we were gonna go_

_i’m so so sorry kris can you pick me up from here? ill just ride over with him i guess so i can leave my car here_

He sat down heavily on the edge of the bed, putting the phone aside to bury his face in his hands. How the fuck had they gotten here? This wasn’t supposed to happen; they were supposed to move in together, and it would all be fixed, and he’d see her enough, and it was all going to be _fine_ , but it hadn’t been fine for so long he was starting to wonder whether it would be again. 

His hand, his arm, his whole _body_ felt like it had been filled with lead when he picked up the phone to respond. _Of course, baby. Just call me when it’s over._

He finished getting dressed and went to sit on the sofa; figuring at least he could turn on the TV and find some stupid show to drown out his thoughts. His eyes flicked down to the Netflix button on the remote; _what the hell_ , he thought, _you already feel like shit, might as well see her during it._

He put her movie on, the stupid Christmas one he’d helped her run lines for, and watched her-but-not live through a dreamy, whirlwind romance, even almost smiled at the scene they had read together on his living room floor all those months ago; he closed his eyes for the kiss at the end, even though he’d seen the movie before with Sven when it first came out, he didn’t know if he could take watching it right now.

He kept watching while the credits rolled, jealous of all the people whose names scrolled by for every second they got to spend with her, not knowing how he coveted her time. It was getting dark; he glanced at his phone, expecting to see that he’d missed something from her, but there was nothing.

He went to the kitchen and cracked open a beer; he wasn’t normally one to drink when he got like this, but tonight-- tonight something felt different, like the air was suddenly running out of oxygen, like the walls of this house they had thought would be full of so much happiness were closing in on him.

He finished it; still nothing. It was late enough now she’d be too hungry to wait through the drive up. Fine; they’d get McDonald’s, or order a pizza, or he’d cook pancakes for her-- he didn’t _care_ , he just wanted to fucking _see_ her before she left, just wanted to be with her and no one else and pretend that it could be that way all the time.

He cracked open another beer. Another hour passed, and the frustration that had been pooling in his gut had started to ferment into worry. She was never quiet this long; something had to have happened, something had to be _wrong_. 

His jaw was clenched; he released it, thinking it would lighten some of the tension coiled tight in every part of him, but it didn’t. He felt hot and cold and too big and too small all at once, a bundle of aching and anxiety bouncing around the prison of his own skull while he waited to hear something, _anything_.

Suddenly he could take it no more and stormed out the front door, snatching up his keys and heading for the car. He had it started, had his hand on the gear stick to pull it into reverse when a sudden horrible thought hit him: what if she didn’t _want_ him to pick her up? What if she wanted to spend her last nights here with everyone else, with all the other people like her, the ones who kept pushing her and and demanding so much of her, all in the pursuit of-- of _whatever_ the fuck it was that kept her going like this.

He went back inside and sat at the kitchen table, his eyes never moving from the door.

Another half hour passed, and then suddenly it swung open and she was _there_ , her eyes wild and her hair half-out of a ponytail. “Kris, I’m so fucking _sorry_ ,” she gasped out, and he stood, striding over to her.

“I-- I rode with Hans,” she explained, already reaching for him, “and then I got there and realized my phone was gonna die, and I didn’t have my charger with me because it was in the car, and no one else had theirs either, and then the meeting just kept fucking going on and on because everyone was asking so many questions, and then I had to borrow someone’s phone to get an Uber and it turns out that that just complicates things and I-- _fuck_ fuck fuck I’m so _sorry_ , I just--”

“I need to go,” he said shortly, catching the door before it could swing shut behind her and slipping out into the night without saying goodbye.


	17. repair

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i can never leave yall hanging for long

Part of her wondered if she should be afraid.

This was the sort of thing people did when they were done with you, when they had had enough of  _ you _ not being enough, or maybe too much, or maybe the right amount but not the right _ kind _ , not what they were looking for, and she had a feeling maybe she had been a little bit of all three of those for the last few weeks-- but still, somehow she wasn’t frightened.

She certainly wasn’t happy, though, that much was certain. She had seen the wild look in his eyes, and it had made her heart ache, and she was disappointed that he hadn’t even said hello, and more than that she was disappointed in herself for being the reason for all of this. And there was anger, too, an anger that had been building in her every time someone asked about Hans or Sam called her in for a meeting or a shoot went over, because each stupid little thing chipped away more and more at the precious time she had with Kristoff.

But her heart didn’t pound like it would have a few months ago; her mind didn’t race through thoughts like it had when he’d said he didn’t think living together was a good idea; her breathing was steady and even; all she could think was  _ I hope I’m still awake when he gets back _ .

And there it was, all at once, and she didn’t know how she hadn’t realized it before. Somehow she couldn’t recall the last time she had doubted him when he told her he loved her, or the last time she had wondered when he would realize she wasn’t what he wanted. Kristoff loved her, and he  _ meant _ it, meant to stay with her as long as he could, and she loved him the same, and there was no longer any part of her that believed he wouldn’t come home to her when he was ready.

She busied herself in the kitchen, washing dishes that had sat for longer than either of them would like to admit, straightening the cabinets they had put into order  _ together _ this time, at three in the afternoon instead of the morning. And then she showered, using his soap because she knew he still loved to smell it on her skin just as much as he had the first time, and she got dressed in his old, worn sweatpants and t-shirt she’d “borrowed” the first time they spent the night at his parents’ house. And she brought the blanket she had given him for Christmas back into the living room, and she fluffed the pillows on the sofa, the one they’d ended up bringing from his old apartment after all, and then she sat in the recliner they had bought for whenever Sven visited and promised to leave untouched for him, and she curled up under the blanket and waited. She meant to stay awake, but it started to rain after a while, and the sound of it pounding in a steady thrum against the roof and the warmth of the blanket around her shoulders, heavy enough that she could close her eyes and pretend it was him, at last lulled her to sleep.

At first, she thought it was a burst of lightning that shone through the windows, waking her, but then she realized it was headlights. She sat up a little in the chair, feeling her heart begin to pick up speed, but still, it wasn’t quite fear that she felt. When the door opened, for a moment he just stood there, his eyes locked on hers, and she realized that though she wasn’t,  _ he _ was afraid.

Neither of them spoke. He shut the door, slid off his shoes, set down his keys, and then he turned to look at her again, and suddenly he was stumbling over and kneeling in front of her, leaning forward to cross his arms over her lap and bury his face there.

Surprised, she ran her fingers through his rain-dampened hair, hoping it might do something to soothe him. “It’s alright, baby,” she said quietly. “You’re alright.”

He turned his head just enough to look at her, his eyes pained. “I’m so sorry, Anna, I just-- it’s not you, it was just too much, and I--”

“Kris, it’s  _ okay _ ,” she reassured him, stroking his hair back from his temple. 

He took a shuddering breath. “God, I just...I don’t want you to think I want to leave or something, because it’s-- it’s--  _ fuck _ , Anna, it’s the opposite.”

“I know.”

“I’m an idiot, this is just like Thanksgiving again, and I’m so--”

“Kristoff.”

He grew silent, closing his eyes as if he were too ashamed to meet her gaze. She set her hand on his cheek and held it there, letting her thumb caress his cheekbone. “We have a lot to talk about. And we’re going to fix this, I promise. But right now, I think you and I both need to  _ sleep _ .”

“I know, I’m sorry I--”

“ _ Kristoff. _ Look at me.”

He sat up reluctantly, still kneeling before her. She had never seen him look so  _ tired _ , not even when he’d been working so much on top of going to school that fall, and realizing that hurt far worse than the way he had stormed out tonight.

“I love you,” she said firmly, “and I know you love me back. And I meant it when I told you you were it for me, and I know you meant it, too. And as long as we know that...we can figure out the rest, okay? And I’m  _ so _ sorry for everything I’ve done that made you feel like this, and I want you to tell me the truth about-- about  _ everything _ , and then I’ll do whatever I can to fix it, but right now, I just want you to get some rest. Can you do that for me?”

He took a deep, shuddering breath. “How can you just...forgive me?”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Kris,” she insisted. “You got upset and needed some space. That’s perfectly fine.”

“But I just-- and I didn’t--”

“Tomorrow, baby. I promise. After we’ve both gotten some sleep so we can think straight.”

He sighed. “I just...I don’t know. I always heard people say ‘don’t go to bed angry’.”

“Are you angry?”

“No. Just...sad.”

She leaned forward and kissed his forehead. “Me too.”

At that he finally rose, holding out a hand to help her up. She took it gratefully and brought the blanket with her as he led her to the bedroom. Wordlessly, she handed him his sweatpants as he undressed before she climbed into bed. He slid in beside her and just watched her for a moment, so hesitant it somehow deepened the already aching hole in her chest.

“Come here,” she murmured, nestling close to him and draping one arm over his waist. “Let me hold you.”

He pulled her close to him, turning to bury his nose in her hair. She let her eyes flutter shut, memorizing the way his warmth seemed to surround her, to shelter her, and she wished she had done a better job of making him feel the same way.  _ Starting now _ , she told herself,  _ you’re going to do better _ .

“I love you. More than anything,” he whispered, and for the first time that night, she smiled.

“Love you to infinity.”

“Love you more than that,” he mumbled, the words blurring together.

She tilted her head to kiss the corner of his jaw. “Sweet dreams, Kris.”

The only response was his arms tightening around her waist as he slid into sleep.

* * *

Anna woke up feeling well-rested for the first time in months. They had barely shifted in the night; Kristoff’s hands were still pressed over her shoulder blades, and her cheek was still pressed against his chest. She yawned, sleepily nuzzling her nose over his skin, and felt him stir next to her.

“Good morning,” he said, his voice still rumbly with sleep, and she slid up to rest her

head beside his on the pillow. 

“How do you feel?” she asked, brushing his rumpled hair out of his eyes.

“Like I can think straight again. Even though I just woke up. And like I love you.”

She laughed. “I hope you feel like that all the time. I know I do.”

He kissed her then, his lips soft and slow, and a certain peacefulness settled throughout her that she had only ever felt with him. When he pulled back, she sighed, contented, and cupped his cheek with her hand. 

“I’m sorry again about last night,” he said, sorrow creeping into his eyes. “I don’t know what came over me.”

“No, it’s okay. You had every right to be upset. I’m sorry I missed our date, and that I’ve just been coming home too tired to even talk to you. I-- I miss this a lot, Kris, just...us being us.”

“Me, too.”

She bit her lip, gathering her courage, and then asked, “Tell me the truth. About everything, please, just...you were so upset. Please tell me what’s bothering you.”

A little crease appeared between his eyebrows. “I don’t want to stress you out more. That’s why I didn’t tell you.”

“But I want to know,” Anna said softly. “I mean, I knew everything with Hans was bothering you, and that you were worried about me, but I didn’t know it was this bad. And I want to know stuff like that. If something’s weighing you down, I want to fix it if I can. And if I can’t...well, then I’m still here to make sure you don’t have to carry it alone.”

He was silent for a moment; as she had spoken, the sadness in his eyes had shifted into wonder. He raised his fingers to her hair, brushing it back behind her ear, and kept his fingers moving, stroking her hair so gently she could have cried. Instead, she gave him a little smile.

“I never thought,” he said, “that anything could be this... _ good _ . That there was something in the world that wouldn’t go wrong somehow.”

She kissed him again and felt him smile against her. “I feel the same way. And it’s gonna be okay, Kris, but I still need to know what’s wrong”

He sighed. “I’m not very good at explaining stuff like this, Anna, I...I don’t know.”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s just me.”

“Nothing is ever  _ just you _ ,” he muttered, and then he grew quiet for a moment as he gathered his thoughts, his hand slowing in her hair. “I guess I just...more than anything, I miss you. Like, even though we live together, I never get to see you. And that’s for good reasons, I know, but that doesn’t make it any easier.”

“Me, too. I hate that when I’m home, I’m still so tired. I don’t even know how your clinicals are going because I’ve been gone so much.”

He laughed softly. “They’re good. Lots of puppies and kittens.”

“Wish I could come visit. I want to see you just covered in a pile of puppies. But anyway, just missing me-- that’s not all it was, was it?”

“No. It’s that...I don’t know. God, I know you’re not doing anything to encourage it, but there’s just so  _ much _ out there about you and Hans anyway, and I know you’d never, you know…”

He trailed off, swallowing hard, and Anna finished for him. “Cheat on you. God, no, I’d never in a million years. Even if you weren’t the love of my life.”

“I-- am I?”

“Well, obviously. At least I thought it was obvious. That’s what I mean by, y’know, ‘you’re it for me’ and, uh, like half the other things I say to you.”

“No, I-- I know, it’s just...you just... _ said _ it.”

“Well...it’s true. And I mean it. And I want to make sure you know it.”

A slow smile spread across his face, brighter than she’d seen since New Year’s Eve. “You wanna get married sometime?”

“Also an obvious yes,” she teased.

“No, I’m serious. I-- okay, so we’re still working out this...whatever, not a fight.”

“A rough patch,” she supplied, and he nodded.

“Yeah, that. Well-- so maybe not right now. But like, soon would be good. If that’s okay with you.”

She couldn’t help but kiss him, her heart leaping in her chest. They both had been wanting this, she knew, but it was the first time they’d actually discussed it so openly. “How are you this romantic and cute and shit when you haven’t even been awake five minutes?”

“Anna, that was probably the least romantic proposal of all time. I’m redoing it later with a ring and everything to make it official.”

“If you insist.”

She kissed him again, more fervently than she had so far that morning, and he responded in kind, his tongue slipping between her lips as he rolled to hover over her, his forearms resting on either side of her shoulders.

Anna swallowed hard. “Was that all?”

“Of the kissing? Fuck, no.”

“No, I meant-- was that all that was bothering you?”

He dipped his head down to kiss her forehead. “No. I just...I worry about you. You’re working  _ so _ hard. I mean, you literally are hurting yourself, Anna, your wrist is still a little bruised.”

She nodded, her eyes locked on his. There was wanting there, plenty of it, but she could see the anxiety, too, lurking in their brown depths, and wished she hadn’t been ignoring it for so long. “You’re right. And I know you’ve been trying to take care of me. So thank you for that, I haven’t said that enough.”

He leaned back down and kissed her, long and sweet, as his knee slipped between her thighs. “You’re welcome,” he whispered against her mouth, and she tangled her hands in his hair, tugging him closer.

“And I’ll see if I can talk to the director about my schedule,” she murmured between kisses. “And Sam, too, I’ll tell him we need less meetings, and that doing absolutely nothing about Hans isn’t working and that we gotta discourage it, and when that’s done, you and I can do more of- of--”

“Of this?” he asked, his teeth grazing over her earlobe, and she gasped and pressed up against him.

“Yes. And everything--  _ anything _ \-- just so long as it’s with you, it doesn’t matter to me.”

His mouth moved slowly down the column of her throat as his hand slid under her shirt, his fingers tracing lines over her skin that were slowly driving her crazy. “I love you, Anna.”

“Love you, too,” she said, her own hands reaching down to tug off his sweatpants. “I-- wait, actually, before we do this...one more question.”

“Hmmm?” he mumbled against her collarbone. 

“Do you think we still have time to do our Valentine’s date today? I mean, after I finish packing?”

He lifted his head, his eyes full of surprise and love and contentment, an expression she knew was mirrored on her own face. “Of course, baby, it’s Saturday. I’ve got all day.”

“Good. Thank god no one’s tried to make me schedule any meetings or interviews or anything today, because I have  _ much _ better things to do.”

“Like what?” he teased, and she answered him by capturing his mouth in a kiss once more.

  
  



	18. difficult conversations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the delay

“You’re taking the back way on purpose, aren’t you?” Anna accused him.

“You just now figured that out?”

She giggled and set her hand over his where it rested on her knee. “Why? I thought you were really excited to show me this place.”

“I think we’ve made a lot of good memories in cars. And I want this to be another one, so I’m making it last as long as possible.”

“Like what?”

She remembered well enough, but he grinned because she wanted to hear them all from his mouth, know that he looked back on them just as fondly. “Like in high school, when I got my license first, and you would get up super early to ride to school with me even though I had to drop all my siblings off first.”

“And we’d get breakfast at the gas station, and you’d always say--”

“‘Seriously, Anna, where do all those Little Debbies _go--’,_ and you’d say--”

“‘In my mouth, dumbass’,” she finished, and threw her head back with a peal of laughter. 

Kristoff grinned, wider than he had in weeks. “And remember this fall when we went to the beach, but it started raining, so we, uh…”

“Fucked each other’s brains out?”

He swallowed hard. _Keep your eyes on the road, Kristoff_. “Right. Yes. That time.”

“Oh, I definitely won’t forget that any time soon. Remember when you picked me up from the airport, and how we were both just, like, _giddy_? Oh, my god, I was just, like...you have no idea how much I rambled to Honey about how cute you looked when you had dropped me off, and how excited I was to come back…”

She trailed off, turning to look straight at him as his thumb gently circled over her knee. “I wish you could drop me off this time.”

“I can,” he said, surprising himself; she was supposed to be taking a taxi there so the paparazzi who always lurked at LAX wouldn’t see them, but if it really meant something to her--

“You would risk that for me?” she asked, suddenly shy.

“Well...yeah. I’m not gonna get to see you for three weeks. And if it means a lot to you...then yeah.”

“There’s, like, a really good chance someone will see.”

“I know.”

He glanced over and saw as she bit her lip before speaking again. “Are you...do you...do you think you’ll ever want to go public?”

“I mean...I don’t know that I’ll ever _want_ to have a bunch of strangers take my picture and speculate about us, you know? But if we’re gonna get married and stuff, I don’t want to spend my whole life hiding. So...I don’t know. I don’t want to just drop that bombshell right this second, but at the same time, if it happens now when I drop you off...at least I’m getting it over with, you know?”

The hand that she had set over his began tracing up and down the inside of his wrist; he shivered but didn’t pull away. “I...I don’t know what to say, Kris. Just...thank you, I guess. I know all of this has been crazy, and I’ve been a shitty girlfriend for the last couple months--”

“Not shitty, just busy.”

“Shh, let me finish being sappy. Anyway, I...I’m really glad it’s you. That I’m gonna spend the rest of my life with.”

He was half-tempted to pull over on the shoulder and kiss her then and there and not stop until she felt the same rush of happiness that was sweeping away any thought of the next three weeks. “I’m glad, too.”

She sighed, contented, and settled back against the seat, though her eyes didn’t move from his face. “Did you ever really expect this to happen? Like, back in high school, if someone had told you this was where we’d end up, would you have believed them?”

“No, but I would have wanted to, more than anything.”

“Why not?”

He shrugged as he finally pulled into the diner’s parking lot. “Like I said when we ran into each other again last summer, you were always the prettiest girl in the room, and I was just me.”

“Nothing,” she said, echoing what he had told her that morning, “has ever, _ever_ been ‘just you’.”

He did kiss her then, long and slow and sweet, and when they finally got out of the car one of the cooks who was out for a smoke break raised an eyebrow. “Newlyweds?” she asked, a faint smile playing at the corner of her mouth.

Kristoff felt himself blush beet red, but Anna just grinned. “Close enough.”

* * *

The work itself was what made it worthwhile. She never felt more _herself_ than when she was someone else. Even with Kristoff, sometimes she still got so self-conscious and tangled up in her own thoughts she just froze up. It was weird, she knew, and she had heard from so many people that for them it was the opposite, that it was a fight to get past the barrier of nerves even when they’d been doing this for years.

So she was lucky, she supposed, even if she didn’t feel like it right now in hair and makeup at six A.M. waiting for her phone to ring. 

“What if they forgot?” she asked, tapping her fingers impatiently on her knee. 

“Quit frowning. You’re making the foundation crease. No talking, either.”

Anna sighed and rearranged her face into a carefully neutral expression. She knew Honeymaren was eager as well for the call; they were both _horrendously_ homesick. But Honey, at least, had something to focus on, namely putting enough powder on her face that the makeup would hold up for the most obnoxious filming schedule of all time; her first scene was supposed to start at eight, and then she was on and off and on again throughout the entire rest of the day, until half-past five. Hans, meanwhile, got to do all his parts with Michael, the man playing Vladimir, all in a row between ten and two.

As if she could sense Anna’s thoughts, Honey said softly, “You can ask them to change your schedule, you know. It really isn’t fair they’ve got you off and on like this.”

“I don’t want to cause another fuss.”

In the mirror, she saw Honey nod, more out of understanding than agreement. On the flight over, as she had still been trying to stop the fat tears rolling down her cheeks after saying goodbye to Kristoff, she had found out that someone had sat her next to Hans for the entire flight. “Absolutely not,” she had insisted, and literally put her foot down, but nobody had really cared about what she had to say until Hans himself swooped in. “

“Of course you don’t have to sit by me, Anna,” he had said soothingly. “I know things are still very awkward for you. I’m sure whoever arranged the seats just did it thinking maybe it would give us a chance to sort things out for the movie’s sake, you know. Just thinking of the best for everyone. But if you’re uncomfortable…”

She had nearly given in, feeling shamed as everyone had sat in silence and just _watched_ , but then he had set a condescending hand on her back, right where Kristoff’s hand had been when he had hugged her goodbye, and she had jerked away. “I am uncomfortable,” she said, “and someone else can have this seat.”

She’d ended up sitting next to one of the screenwriters who, mercifully, had turned out to be completely lovely and blessedly quiet for most of the flight, chatting only to ask if Anna would mind looking at a few tweaks she had added to some scenes.

Later, when they’d been rolling their suitcases to the hotel, Honey had squeezed her arm and said, “He’s a jackass, Anna. Seriously, everyone knows it.”

Evidently they didn’t, because Hans was still king of the set in every way. No one cared when he was late or took too many sandwiches from craft services or complained about the lighting and how it hurt his eyes. Everything was “of course, Mr. Westergaard, right away”; meanwhile Anna was having a hard time getting her coffee the right way in the morning. It wasn’t that she wanted to be one of those bratty divas who insisted on no foam, boiling hot, exactly the right shade of brown almond milk lattes; she just wanted some sweetener in it, that was all, and every day the intern who brought it to her conveniently forgot and was too busy fawning over Hans to be called back over.

Not that that had happened again today. For the sixth day in a row.

Before she could get herself irritated about it again, the phone rang, and she lunged forward to grab it, nearly losing an eye in the process as Honey jerked an eyeshadow brush out of the way just in time. She swiped it up and found herself face to face with Kristoff.

“Hey,” he said, grinning ear to ear.

“Hey, yourself,” she replied, wondering why her eyes were watering.

“Hi, Anna!” called an unfamiliar voice from the background, and Kristoff shifted the view so Ryder could come into frame. “Nice to meet you! Where’s my sister?”

“Right here,” Honey said with a bright smile of her own. “How are you holding up?”

“We’re good! Well, I’m good, at least. I think Kristoff is going to kill me if I start humming one more time.”

“By humming, he means he starts singing every part to ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ under his breath. And very out of key. And it turns out that’s the best way to make someone lose their place in the middle of reorganizing patient files.”

Honey laughed. “He’s your problem til I’m back. Good luck with him.”

Each of them resumed their work as they chattered on, but Anna, despite being the only one sitting still, was quiet for once, unsure of what exactly she wanted to stay. Instead she kept her eyes on Kristoff’s the whole time, grateful he was the one holding the phone so he was never far out of view, while Ryder, it seemed, was incapable of sitting still.

After half an hour, though, Honey cleared her throat as she put the finishing touches on Anna’s lipstick. “Well, anyway, Ryder, can you do me a favor and go call Mom to check on her?”

“What? Why? I can do that after we--”

“ _Ryder_.”

“... _ohh_. Yeah, yeah, be right back!”

Honey rolled her eyes. “Men. I’m gonna go grab some more coffee. I’ll bring you some back, Anna. Sugar included this time.”

“Thanks,” Anna replied, and both of them knew she meant it for more than the coffee.

She looked back at the screen and saw that Kristoff’s smile had dropped, as had her own. He looked exhausted now that she could actually get a good look at him, shadows under his eyes that were only barely hidden by his glasses.

“How are you holding up, baby?” he asked her, his voice soft.

She bit her lip. “I...okay. I know we said we’re gonna work on being like, totally honest about our feelings, but if I start being whiny...”

“It’s okay. I don’t mind. I’m just happy to hear your voice.”

“It’s just...I don’t know. In Romania, we all got along, and it was fun. Busy, obviously, but...it always felt like I was with friends. Here it’s like...I’m an afterthought in my own movie. It’s just kind of Hans everything.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Thanks. It just...I don’t know. It sucks. But we did the scene with my big song in it yesterday. That went good. They had me sing live, and I didn’t fuck it up.”

“Knew you wouldn’t,” he said with a faint smile.

“How are you, though?”

He rubbed his hand over his face. “I’m...fuck, Anna.”

To her horror, his voice broke on her name. “Kris, baby, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, it’s just...I miss you so goddamn much. And you’re _worth_ it, but somehow that makes it worse.”

Her hand started shaking as she held the phone. He was trying to hide it from her, but she knew by the way he had pushed up his glasses to rest his hand on his forehead that he was fighting back tears. She longed to reach out and hold him, to run her hands through his hair as she let him lean against her, to do anything that might soothe him the way he always soothed her, but there was nothing she could do but sit and watch and try to think of something to say that might somehow make it easier on him.

“It’s okay, baby,” she said softly, “I’ll be home before you know it.”

“I know, it’s just-- _fuck_ , now that I know what it’s like to have you here with me, it’s just so much harder this time, and I’d already barely seen you since New Year’s, and I just-- I just--”

“Have you been sleeping?” she asked, furrowing her eyebrows as he pulled his hand away enough for her to catch a glimpse of the gray-blue shadows under his eyes.

“No,” he admitted, somehow looking even more defeated as he did so. “I just...I don’t know, there’s been stuff at the clinic, and then you’ve been gone, and I just...I know it’s safe, but if-- if something _did_ happen, you’re so far away, and what if I wasn’t able to get there in time? And I just keep thinking about that, and then I dream about it, too, and then I wake up and you’re not there and just... _fuck_ , Anna, I don’t know what to do. And I’m sorry I’m telling you all this, I know you’ve got your own shit going on--”

“No, don’t ever be sorry for telling me things like this,” she said quickly. “This is exactly what I asked you to do. And I just...I just wish there was something I could do to help.”

“Just...hearing your voice, that’s making the biggest difference right now,” he said, and she noticed his voice didn’t sound quite so strained anymore. “And saying it out loud...fuck, that helps, too.”

“Do you think you need to talk to someone? Like, a professional someone?”

He was quiet for a long moment. “I...I used to when we were kids. To help me with, y’know...being adopted, and then other stuff, and...maybe you’re right. Maybe I should go again.”

“It would make me feel better if you did, too,” she said, knowing that that was probably her best shot of convincing him. 

“Okay, I’ll-- I’ll call someone tomorrow, I guess. I...thanks for listening, Anna. I know you’re busy with the movie and--”

“Kris, this is my job,” she said gently. “To listen to you and be here for you. And I’m happy to do it. God knows you’ve done it for me plenty of times before.”

He sighed. “I know, I just...it’s nice, knowing that I can tell you everything, and it doesn’t change stuff. I’ve never really had that before.”

“Well, you’ll have it from now on,” she said firmly. “Because I’m not going anywhere.”

He managed to give her a weak smile. “Well. Apart from Romania. And Russia.”

She shook her head. “No. I’m taking a break from location shoots for a while. I just want to be _home_.”

“Wish it were easier than this. Wish you could just come back for the weekend or something.”

There was a way. It would require her to quite probably humiliate herself all over again, but he still had that strained set to his jaw, and his eyes still looked sort of damp, and that was all she needed to make her decision. “Let me see what I can do.”

  
  


* * *

It had been three days since he had admitted to Anna how much this was tearing at him. It had embarrassed him at first that he was so distraught over only three weeks like some clingy teenager, but he’d spoken to her more since and she had reassured him it didn’t feel that way at all. “Still,” she’d said gently, “I hate that you’re feeling so anxious. Did you get an appointment made?”

He had, and he’d gone this afternoon. It helped to hear someone else tell him the things Anna said, to know it was coming from an unbiased source, to know that he wasn’t losing his mind for being stressed about it. “Your whole life has changed several times over in the last year. Be gentle with yourself, Kristoff,” the woman had said, her eyes solemn.

That was easier said than done. Currently he was fuming at himself for thinking it was a good idea to watch Anna’s Netflix movie again to get a glimpse of her. Now he was lying awake in bed at three in the morning, staring at the ceiling and trying not to wonder what bullshit Hans had pulled today. Then, suddenly, his phone rang, making him jump.

“Anna?” he asked as soon as he accepted the call. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, uh, hi baby, I’m-- I’m fine. I just...wow. Um. I can’t believe I just did that.”

“Did what?”

“Well,” she said, her voice trembling, “I figured that if I’m the main character of the whole movie I’m entitled to at least one diva moment on set. So I used it on this. I told them I was coming home early whether we filmed all my stuff or not, and uh-- it worked. They changed my bullshit schedule, and so we’ve been doing stuff the last few days, and I manage to get the flight set up and now the day after tomorrow I’m gonna be home. I’m sorry, it’s only like a week early, but--”

“You’re-- you’re really gonna be here?”

“Uh-huh. Sorry my flight lands at like, five A.M., I can get a taxi or--”

“I’ll be there, Anna,” he said, suddenly breathless although he hadn’t moved an inch since she had started talking. “I’ll be there to bring you home.”


	19. six weeks or so

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> update two days in a row to make up for a week off

When she saw Kristoff waiting for her by the car, she didn't so much embrace him as crash into him, flinging her suitcases aside to throw her arms around his waist and hold on tight.

He caught her with equal enthusiasm, pressing her so close to his chest she could feel his heartbeat thudding against her cheek.

"I  _ missed _ you," she choked out, tears already welling over. 

"It's okay," he murmured, running a hand over her hair. "You're back now. I've got you."

"Russia is cold as  _ fuck _ ."

"Were you surprised?"

"No, I just-- fuck, it's good to be back in LA."

He chuckled and pulled back enough to get a glimpse at her face. "I take it you didn't sleep on the plane."

"Not even for a minute. I don't even remember what day it's supposed to be."

"February eighteenth. And it's Saturday, so you're stuck with me all day."

"Oh, thank god, I-- wait, you got up this early on a  _ weekend _ to get me?"

"Well, yeah. I didn't want to wait any longer than I had to to see you."

"Jesus. Are you like, real? Am I actually asleep now and dreaming this?"

He kissed her forehead and pulled back to open the trunk of his car. "No, this is real."

"God, I'm lucky," she said with a happy sigh, admiring the way his arms flexed as he heaved her suitcases into the trunk. "You're hot  _ and  _ you love me. And smart!"

"Did you sleep at  _ all _ the last day or so?"

"Nope," she said cheerfully. "So the reunion sex has to wait til after I nap this time."

* * *

“Was it all bad?”

“No, there were some good moments. Like I did have one afternoon to go sightseeing with Honey. I tweeted those pictures, did you see?”

“Mhmm. You looked adorable in that big fur hat,” Kristoff said, leaning over to where she was perched on the edge of the counter to kiss her on the cheek.

“And Honey made it bearable, and the not-Hans people are mostly okay. Oh! And Katerina was lovely, that’s the little girl who plays Anastasia when she’s younger. They’re doing that whole first bit in Russian, and she didn’t really know much English, but she was  _ so _ cute, look!”

She held up her phone to show him a picture of her grinning ear to ear as she knelt beside a little girl with bright blue eyes, waist-length red hair, and a missing front tooth; they looked so similar that for a moment he had an uncanny feeling that he was looking at a picture of a mother and daughter.

“Yeah, she’s adorable,” he said, unsure why there was suddenly a lump in his throat.

“And she was so sweet with the dog-- I told you they’re keeping that in, right, from the original one? Anyway, by the end they were inseparable. I could tell you would get along with her, too.”

He set down the spatula then and went over to kiss her properly, setting his hands on her waist and tugging her as close as he could without pulling her completely off the counter. She let out a little surprised laugh, though she met him with enthusiasm, and when he pulled away she asked breathlessly, “What was that for?”

“Just because.”

* * *

There was a loud thump, followed by a hissed, “ _ Fuck _ , shit that hurt!”, and then another much louder thump followed by something so vulgar he felt himself blush just listening to it.

He sat up, fumbling for his glasses on the nightstand. “Anna? What are you doing up? I thought you said you don’t have to film anything else.”

“I don’t. But I set up a meeting with Lena this morning to talk about options.”

“Oh.”

He wasn’t awake enough to deal with  _ that _ kind of problem just yet, and so instead he switched the lamp on. “What did you drop?”

“I set my heels on top of the drawers so I would see them and remember to wear them. The tall ones that make me feel like a badass? And then, uh, I tried to get dressed in the dark and knocked one of them onto my foot, and it turns out those heels hurt when they land on you, and then I, uh, I tripped and ran into the dresser.”

“Sounds like you’re going to have a bruise.”

“A massive one that Honey will get annoyed at me for. You wouldn’t believe how much concealer she’s wasted on me doing stupid shit.”

She finished putting her earrings in and clacked over to him, still in the heels. “Have fun at work today, baby, okay?”

“I’ll try. Depends on what shit Ryder pulls.”

She laughed at that and leaned down to kiss him. “Love you.”

“Love you back.”

And he was having fun at work, really, especially when he spent his lunch break playing fetch with the dogs who were staying in the kennels, but then his phone buzzed with a call from Anna.

“Hey, sweetheart, what’s up?” he asked, hoping she couldn’t tell he was already worrying; she never called at work.

“Fuck! I’m so fucking pissed, I-- oh, hello, sorry, I skipped that part. Love you. Anyway,  _ fuck _ !”

“What’s wrong?”

“So I like, told Lena how shitty Hans was, and that you and I had been talking about eventually going public, and she was all ‘well it’s really good for your reputation to be in the news this much’ and I was like ‘um but I don’t like being in the tabloids’ and she was like ‘but it’s good for your  _ career _ so really I was thinking we could play this up’ even though I told her at the  _ beginning _ I don’t want to encourage it, you know?”

“Uh-huh.”

“And then  _ she _ was annoyed at  _ me _ , like ‘look at all your Twitter followers now’ and stuff and just like...fuck. Like I know she knows how to do this shit way better than me, but still. I told her no, by the way, still no playing into it. Which I would have done even if I didn’t know it bothers you because it bothers me, so don’t start feeling guilty.”

She knew him too well; he’d been getting ready to apologize already. “I won’t.”

“Well,  _ then _ , she was like ‘the hype is going to die down til the trailer drops this summer if we don’t do something so next weekend I got you lined up for some talk show stuff, and Hans is doing SNL and surprise, you’ve got a cameo with him on that and also he’ll be on the talk shows too’ and just. I  _ told _ her how much he sucks, you know? And that I really needed a break from traveling.”

“But this’ll be really good, Anna,” he said, making sure he was out of earshot of anyone who might overhear and put two and two together. “For your career and the movie. You gotta go.”

She sighed heavily. “I know. But like, I haven’t even gotten to see my sister in a month. And they’re probably gonna put me in a hotel with Hans, and he’ll try to come up with some excuse to come talk to me in my room--”

“Can I come with you?” Kristoff asked, surprising even himself. “I mean, if it’s for SNL, it’s on the weekend, right?”

There was a beat of silence, and then she replied, “Oh my god. Oh my god, would you really do that?”

“Um...go on a weekend trip with my girlfriend to a city I’ve never seen? Is that a question?”

“We’d have to leave Friday, though.”

“That’s fine. I get a day off each month, and I haven’t used any yet.”

“You’re telling me it’s  _ March _ , and you’ve been stressed as fuck, and you still haven’t missed a day?”

“Um…”

“Okay, you’re definitely coming with me. And we’re doing touristy shit the whole time. Well, the whole time I’m not doing dumb interviews or whatever. Anyway, I just got to set. See you tonight?”

“Why did you say that like it’s a question? We live together.”

“I don’t know. Makes it feel more exciting that way, like we’re still in the exciting dating part and not basically already an old married couple.”

“It’s still exciting to me.”

“Aww, Kris,” she said, her voice softening. “You’re too cute. I can’t wait to actually be half of an old married couple with you.”

Unconsciously, his hand went to his pocket, where he was keeping the receipt from the jewelry store. He was picking it up after work today. “Me, either.”

* * *

“Do you think people can tell this is a wig?”

“No. I barely recognized you when you came out of the bathroom this morning.”

“Liar. But you’re sweet for saying so.”

He laughed and squeezed her hand. She was in the window seat, wearing a brunette wig cut into a bob, a sweatshirt with the hood pulled up over it, and a pair of sunglasses for good measure, and  _ still _ to be certain she went unrecognized, they had gone through security and boarding separately. Now they were seated in first class, and, mercifully Hans had beaten them there and already attracted all the attention to himself. Except for his own, of course; he had already made excuses to walk past their row twice before the plane had even taken off.

Kristoff heard the engines start up and cleared his throat. “Um. Is it too late to tell you I’ve never flown before?”

_ “Never _ ? I knew that in high school, but I thought surely…”

“Nope. I, uh, am I supposed to be scared?”

“Are you?”

“...only if I’m supposed to be.”

She laughed and held out her hand palm-up. “Hold on to me. Trust me, it helps.”

He squeezed her hand and felt a prickling at the back of his neck. He turned and met Hans’s glittering green eyes across the aisle. For a moment they just stared at each other; then Hans smirked and returned his attention to his phone.

Kristoff turned to face the front again, grateful Anna’s attention was on the menu and thus that she’d missed the moment of tension. He had a funny feeling that wouldn’t be the only such moment this weekend.

* * *

“Yes, it’s been a dream come true,” she said with a grin. “I mean, getting to be a literal  _ princess _ ? What girl doesn’t want that?”

“It’s your second time wearing a crown. Do you think this movie will be as successful as  _ Crowned on Christmas _ ?”

“Oh, definitely. I mean, the number of amazing, talented people on set--”

And there was Hans’s goddamn hand on her knee again. “I agree,” he said, smoothly interrupting her. “It’s been such an amazing experience working with Anna.”

She crossed her legs, forcing his hand to fall away. At least it wasn’t on her shoulder again this time; that had taken her a whole minute and a half to shuffle out of. She caught the host’s eye in a silent plea for help, but he didn’t seem to notice.

“And the rumors about the two of you?”

Hans laughed. “It’s flattering, to be sure, to have my name linked with someone like our Anna here. But I like to keep some parts of my life private.”

“Me, too,” Anna said quickly, but Hans’s hand settled over her shoulders again all the same.

When she was finally, mercifully off the set and backstage again, she didn’t even bother with a makeup wipe before grabbing Kristoff’s hand and pulling him out the stage door, heading straight for the car that was waiting for them. Mercifully, no fans had come around back yet, and so she dropped his hand only long enough to get in the backseat.

Neither of them spoke until they were nearly to the hotel, and then she turned to him suddenly, her eyes fierce. “I fucking hate that guy.”

Kristoff only nodded, his eyes dark and unfathomable.

“And I’m gonna take an insanely hot shower until I like, burn away all of him from my skin.”

He nodded again and set his hand over hers, squeezing hard.

The silence resumed as they made their way upstairs, timing it so they wouldn’t be seen in the lobby together. She went first and was already stripped down, the shower heating up, when she heard the door click open. She stepped back out to greet Kristoff, but before she could even get out a  _ hello _ he was there, his hands tangling in her hair as he kissed her, hard.

“Fuck,” she managed to gasp out, hands already scrabbling at his waistband as he nipped at her lower lip. “Kris, I--”

She trailed off into a gasp. He had already moved down to her neck, pressing kisses hard enough she wondered if he was  _ trying _ to leave a mark. “I love you, Anna,” he said, his breath hot against her skin. 

“I love you, too.  _ Only _ you,” she emphasized, and she felt him groan against her collarbone. “And I only want you to touch me.”

“Good. Because that’s how I’m planning on spending the rest of the night.”

* * *

It was too damn hot in the rehearsal room. She had to step out for a moment or she was going to puke up every bite of the room service they had ordered that morning, too lazy and exhausted after spending most of the night tangled in each other to bother even going two feet down the sidewalk for a bagel.

Hans raised an eyebrow as she stood. “You alright, Anna? We’re just about to be to the skit you’re in if you don’t mind waiting another minute for a break.”

She simpered at him, wishing she had the guts to tell him off then and there. “Be right back. Just need a piss.”

He blinked, affronted, but one of the women beside him snickered, which was enough to embolden her. She grabbed her purse from the back of her chair and marched off to the bathroom, locking the door behind her.

She really did need to pee, but after that she dug through the bag in search of a Tums. “Come on, you’re in here somewhere-- aha!” she exclaimed triumphantly, pulling out a foiled packet.

Her smile dropped immediately; it was just her birth control, but as she went to drop it back in something caught her eye. She did some mental math, and then did it again, and then pulled out her phone and looked at a calendar of the last month.  _ No _ , she thought, panic already rising in her chest,  _ there should only be five. Not six _ .

She flicked to another app on her phone, the little one with the stupid flower icon. Surely she had just misremembered, it had been the first week in Russia and it’d only been, what, five or six weeks--

_ Twelve days late _ .

* * *

By the fountain. The big one. The one she had sent him a Google Maps pin for. He had checked three times; this was the right place. And it was the  _ right _ place, too, with the first of the season’s flowers blooming around it, and surprisingly few people, and the sun was gorgeous and warm and sparkling on the water, and seriously, there was so much  _ green _ . When would he have a chance like this in California?

He kept taking the box out of his pocket and opening to double check it, just to make sure it was still there. It felt unreal somehow, even though he’d had it for the last two weeks, just waiting at the back of the sock drawer. 

He still couldn’t help but worry she wouldn’t like it, that it wouldn’t be enough for her. It was kind of small, really, not at all what you’d expect a rising starlet to wear. But he’d picked it out himself because he thought it was her style, and he’d paid for it all up front out of his savings, and he hoped that was enough to make up for its size. 

Which was ridiculous to even worry about, because this was  _ Anna _ , and all she had ever wanted from him was himself, which was maybe even more ridiculous than that. 

He heard footsteps and quickly shoved the box back in his pocket, worried she might have caught a glimpse, but it was only an old man passing by and leaning on his cane who gave him a wink. “Good luck with that, kid,” the man said, and Kristoff offered him a weak smile and a nod.

And then there she was, radiant in the midafternoon light in a white sundress. He was struck suddenly by the thought of how she’d look coming down the aisle to him in something similar, and a smile broke out across his face, one that she didn’t return. In fact, as she drew closer, he realized that she looked exactly like she had on their trip to Disneyland after their third time in a row on Space Mountain.

“Kris,” she said the moment she came up to him, not even taking a moment to hug him, “I gotta tell you something.”

“Oh, uh--” He gulped. “I, uh, I kinda wanted to tell you something too. Or, er, ask you.”

“Oh--  _ oh! _ Oh, fuck! You go first, then.”

“Well-- I don’t know, it was supposed to be a surprise--”

“Do you want me to walk away and come back?”

“I...yeah, that, uh, that would be good.”

She did, and this time when she came over she was giving him a bright smile, her eyes already shining with emotion even before he got down on one knee. 

“Anna,” he said as she drew closer to him, “you’re the most extraordinary person I’ve ever met. You’re the love of my life, and I know I kind of asked this before, but I want to ask it officially. Will you-- oh, fuck, baby, why are you crying so hard? Did I fuck it up?”

She let out a sob. “I think I’m pregnant.”


	20. little pink lines

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry in advance if it takes me another week to update again LOL apparently i can only write this fic in bursts (although tbh we're getting to the parts of the fic i wrote weeks ago)

They were silent for a long moment, and then said in unison, "So do you still want to marry me?"

There was another beat of silence, and then Anna said “yes, with all my heart--” right as Kristoff said “of course I do, baby--” and then she was holding out a trembling hand and he was sliding the ring on and now both of them were crying a little bit.

“I’m sorry,” Anna managed to choke out, “if I’d known you were planning on doing this--”

“No, no, it’s fine, I wasn’t really planning it, it’s just, uh, I’ve sort of been carrying the ring around since I got it waiting for the right moment,” he said, his cheeks flushing as he stood up, only to immediately be pulled back down when Anna grabbed him by the collar so she could kiss him.

“I love you,” she said, laughing even though tears were still rolling down her cheeks, “you crazy, sweet, romantic goof.”

“Okay, in my defense, you’re pretty goofy, too.”

She started to laugh again, but then her face blanched so suddenly he grabbed her by the elbows, worried she was about to faint. “Oh, god, Kristoff, what are we gonna do?”

“Hey, hey, don’t panic, okay? You don’t know for sure, right?”

She shook her head, looking like she was going to be sick, and he quickly put his arms around her, pulling her close to his chest. “So it’s...it could be a false alarm, right?”

“I...yeah, I guess. I could just be really late from...from stress or something.”

“Yeah. So no need to panic, right?”

“Am I panicking? Well, okay, _I_ am, but do _you_ feel panicked? Like, panicked enough to--”

“Not panicked,” he said quickly. “Just-- surprised. And kind of afraid. And...excited?”

“...excited?”

“I mean. Um. It’s your choice, obviously, I’m not gonna make you--”

“I wanna keep it. If I am. So if that changes your mind about the marrying me thing again--”

“No! No, god, not at all. I mean, um, I know we haven’t talked about it a ton before, but I want to have kids with you someday anyway, so, uh, I guess it’s just...maybe someday is right now.”

“Really? You’re-- you’re okay with it?” she asked, her eyes wide.

“Are _you_ okay with it?”

“I mean, the timing is...not great. But like...it’s not like I don’t have the money, you know? And after I do this Netflix thing in May I’m clear the rest of the year so far, so it’s just-- just, you know, all the press tours and keeping it a secret and actually being pregnant and...oh, god, I might pass out. Is that bad? If you pass out when you’re pregnant?”

She was turning dangerously gray around the edges. He set a sturdy arm around her waist and quickly guided her over to a bench that was off the main path. “Breathe, baby. It’s gonna be okay.”

“Sorry,” she said, her eyes wide and panicky, “just-- oh, my god. We’re gonna have to, like, tell people.”

He nodded. “Yeah, I...I guess we will.”

“Oh, god, this is gonna fuck up your clinicals and you’re gonna hate all the pictures and--”

“ _Anna_ . Please, just-- just hang on. You’re getting ahead of yourself again. We don’t even know if you’re for sure pregnant. And anyway, like-- I don’t know. If you _are_ , then I’m serious, I’m _excited_ about it. A little mini you running around? How could I not be happy about that?”

“But we didn’t plan for this.”

“Okay, well, I didn’t plan to run into you again and fall in love with you and everything that’s come along with it, but I still wouldn’t change any of it. And if this is happening now, then I’m sure it’ll work out, too. And...I don’t know. I mean, okay, it hasn’t even been a year, but you said at the beginning it all felt kind of inevitable, remember?

“Yeah. But I meant it in a bad way, like I jumped in headfirst to stuff because I figured it would happen anyway.”

“Okay, well, I guess that’s kind of what’s happening now, but in a good way. For sure.”

She set her hand over his where it was resting on the bench; he flipped his hand palm up so he could lace their fingers together, and she smiled. “Okay,” she said, “but what if it changes things between us? What if now that we’ve got this going on, you change your mind? Or like, what if we have a baby, and it’s really hard to take care of it, and we end up becoming like, that grumpy couple that shouts at each other in Target and argues about changing diapers?”

“That’s not gonna happen, Anna.”

“What if it _does_?”  
“It won’t. I promise. Okay, so maybe things will change between us some, but I think it’ll be for the better. I mean, you’re maybe possibly having my _baby_. And you just said you’re gonna marry me. How could I ever do anything but love you more because of that?”

“You’re too good to me.”

“I’m _not_ ,” he insisted. “I just love you, that’s all. And you love me back, right?”

She nodded, and he opened his arms. She leaned into him gladly, settling her cheek against his shoulder and wrapping her own arms around his waist. “I love you more than anything, Kris,” she said softly. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You don’t have to know. I’m not going anywhere, not now and not ever.”

“Fuck, I love you. And me either, except-- oh, shit, I do have to go now, I’m supposed to be back already to finish rehearsal. And I... _oh_.”

Her face crumpled once more. “I can’t wear the ring. Someone will leak it, and then everyone’ll think Hans proposed to me at lunch and tweet about it.”

 _Ah_ , Kristoff thought, _so this is what it’s like to be a tin can in a trash compactor._

* * *

After having bought three pregnancy tests as she’d requested-- “We have to be _triple sure_ , Kris”-- and then going and watching from the audience as Anna made a cameo in one of Hans’s skits to wild applause, Kristoff was a bundle of nerves. The crowds had been insane enough that they had had to go back to the hotel separately, and he’d been pacing for half an hour waiting for her to get back.

He heard the beep and click of the door opening and spun on his heel to see her standing there, her face wiped clean of stage makeup and hair tossed up in a bun, looking oddly placid. “Hi, baby,” she said, smiling as she came over to give him a kiss on the cheek.

“Hi, Anna, are you--”

“Me? I’m fine, really. There’s nothing to worry about, is there? I mean, people are late all the time, aren’t they? You can skip a whole month, you know. Especially when you’re stressed.”

“Okay,” he said, feeling some of the tension drain from his body as she slid her arms around his waist, “okay, so then I’ll just pack the tests and--”

“Oh, shit! You bought them?”

“Well, yeah, you asked me to so--”

“ _Fuck_ , no, let me-- oh, god, I’ve got to find out for sure.”

He could only blink in surprise as she jumped back out of his arms and ran over to fumble through the Duane Reade bags on the end of the bed. “I, uh, thought you were just calm about this. And that people were late a lot.”

“Yeah, that was bullshit. I tried meditating in the back of the car and it kinda worked, but I’d much rather just _know_ than try to avoid thinking about it.”

“Wait, Anna,” he said, and she looked up at him, a whole tangle of emotions in her eyes.

He swallowed hard and crossed over to her. “Before we know for sure, I...I want to know how you feel right now. Like, the honest to god truth. Because I’m serious, if you don’t want to keep it, or if you’re scared or upset or...or _anything_ , I want to know the truth.”

“Let’s...let’s sit down,” she said, suddenly quiet, and he did, sitting with his back against the headboard.

Rather than sitting beside him, she clambered up and onto his lap, cupping his jaw between her hands and running her thumbs over his cheekbones. “I will tell you,” she promised. “But now that the initial shock is over, I want to hear what you think about this first.”

“But it’s your choice, Anna. I don’t want you to feel like I’m pressuring you or anything.”

“I know. But I already know what I want. And I know you, and I know that you’re the sweetest man alive and that you’d do anything for me, including pretending to be happy for my sake.”

He winced, but he knew she was right. Her voice was gentle as she went on. “And before I say anything, I want you to tell me the truth. The _whole_ truth, not what you think I want to hear.”

He closed his eyes, drawing in a deep breath, and felt her lean down and press her forehead against his. “And I love you the same, and I’ll still marry you no matter what you say.”

He let out the breath. “I...I want to be a dad, Anna. I always have. And getting to have kids with _you_...I can’t even begin to explain how bad I want that. And if that’s now or somewhere way in the future, it’s gonna make me the happiest man on the whole planet. Which I still will be, by the way, even if you’re about to tell me you never want kids, because we’re gonna get married and--”

She leaned down and kissed him then, and his eyes flew open when he realized her cheeks were damp. “Baby, why are you crying? Did I say something wrong or--”

“I want to have kids with you, too,” she managed to say in between soggy kisses. “Every time I walk past the spare bedroom I think about how someday we can put a crib in there against the wall, and how we can do a little mobile above it and how we can paint it ourselves and-- and if I _am_ pregnant, then okay, it’s sooner than I expected, but-- but we can make it work, right?”

“Of course we can,” he said, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her into a tight embrace. “We can work out anything together, Anna.”

“Okay. Then let’s pee on some sticks. Well, I’ll do the peeing. You’ll do the...not watching that part. And the holding my hand while we wait part.”

And so she peed on some sticks, and he held her hand after, and half an hour later six little pink lines stared back at him from the lip of the bathtub, and he was sitting on the cold tile floor, Anna on his lap with her knees pulled up to her chest and her face buried in the already damp fabric of his t-shirt.

“I’m so _h-happy_ ,” she hiccuped, and he felt his heart leap in his chest. “But I’m so scared and nervous and-- wh-what’s gonna _happen_ , Kristoff?”

He smoothed her hair back from her face so he could kiss her forehead. “Well. We’re going to figure it out, one day at a time.”

“Sam and Lena are going to have an aneurysm. Like, a joint one.”

“Don’t worry about that right now,” he said softly, although now he was realizing maybe _he_ should worry a little more about it. “Just focus on catching your breath.”

She nodded weakly against his chest, and for several minutes he just held her, letting her work through it all on her own. He had never felt so helpless or so hopeful in his life, and now here he was, both all at once.

“What if I can’t find a dress to fit in?”

“A dress? For what?”

“My _wedding_ dress.”

“Oh! Oh, fuck, I forgot we get to do that too!”

She laughed at that, and though there were still tears coursing down her cheeks he felt himself relax, at least a little. “You’ll be beautiful regardless,” he said, kissing her forehead again. “And anyway, we can do it soon if you want, before we even tell anyone, or later if you’d rather, and then my mom can help you alter the dress and--”

“Oh, god, I’m going to be _massive_ , aren’t I? God, I’m sorry in advance--”

“Don’t even start to think that,” he insisted. “I can’t-- _fuck_. I can’t wait.”

“For me to look like a whale?”

“To like, be able to _see_ it. Our baby. And feel it kick or whatever and know that soon we can hold it and-- _fuck_.”

Suddenly Anna wasn’t the only one crying. She sat up to brush her nose over his newly damp cheeks, pressing a kiss in its wake. “I could never do this without you.”

“You won’t have to. Not any of it. I’ll hold your hair back every day and bring you pickles and chocolate and-- and change diapers and fill bottles and _everything_ , Anna, anything you-- _or_ they-- ever need.”

She tightened her arms around him. “You’re gonna be the best dad, Kris. I know it.”

“You say that now, but when I lose all the pacifiers or mix formula wrong or--”

“You’re going to love them, though,” she insisted. “So much.”

He couldn’t help but smile. “I already do.”


	21. counting down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO SORRY FOR THE DELAY

**march**

"Call me as soon as you're done, okay?"

"What if you're in the middle of saving a bunny's life or something?"

"I won't be. I'll probably still be at lunch."

Anna sighed in relief and stepped closer, leaning her forehead against his chest. "Oh, good. I'm nervous as fuck."

"Why?" he asked, settling his arms around her.

"I don't know. Just...now that I'm excited about it, I'm worried it'll be a false alarm after all or like...that something's wrong."

Kristoff kissed the top of her head. "It's going to be fine, baby. I'm sure of it."

She tilted her face up towards him, propping up her chin on his chest. "Why does everything sound so reassuring when you say it? Tell me something else that'll make me feel better."

"Uh...like what?"

"I don't know. That I'll never get morning sickness and only be in labor for five minutes."

"I don't think either of those things can really happen.  _ But _ ," he said quickly, seeing the disappointment on her face, "it'll be worth it. Because then we'll get to meet our baby. Who, just saying, is going to be the coolest kid of all time and will definitely be a Mario Kart prodigy."

She smiled and raised up on her toes to kiss him. "Love you."

"Love you back."

And then, because that seemed to be the way of things in his life these days, he had had to miss lunch in order to help out with an emergency surgery and missed lunch. The dog in question, thankfully, was completely fine, but his heart was pounding as he scrambled to check his phone. Ryder raised an eyebrow at the way he rushed into the break room. “All good, man?”

“Great,” Kristoff said absentmindedly as he flicked open his texts from Anna.

_ hey no worries that you didnt pick up sure u just got busy but congratulations dad _ 🎈🎉👶

_ nov 12 is the due date but they said prob will be late since its our first _

_!!!!!!!!!!!!!! love you _

For a moment he just stared down at the screen, hardly daring to breathe. So this was really happening; by the end of the year, he’d have a one-month-old baby. He was going to be a  _ father _ .

“Stop mooning over the girlfriend and come help me in the kennels,” Ryder called.

“Fiancee,” Kristoff said absentmindedly before typing out a quick response, ignoring the exaggerated gasp of shock from the doorway.

_ I can’t wait. Love you back :) _

* * *

“Kristoff?”

“Distractions won’t work this time,” he replied through clenched teeth.

“I’m not even racing this time, dumbass. What’s in 209 days?”

“Huh? I--  _ fuck!”  _ he shouted as he drove right off the edge of the track, to Anna and Ryder’s delight, and promptly fell to last place.

“Watch out, Nattura,” Anna growled. “I’m coming for your ass.”

“Was she always like this?” Honey asked, amused, from where she was sprawled across the armchair.

“Yes,” Elsa replied from her spot on the floor, not looking up from her phone. “It was worst when we played Candyland, because there’s not even a  _ point _ to being competitive at that.”

“Hello? Does anyone care about this ominous countdown on the fridge?” Sven asked again, huffing when he was drowned out by Anna’s cheering as she threw a banana peel in front of Ryder’s kart and secured a last-second victory.

Kristoff, at last, glanced at him. “Will you get me a beer while you’re over there?”

“Yes, if you tell me what the  _ fuck _ is in 209 days and if I need to like, buy a Geiger counter or something.”

“Anna?” Honey asked suddenly, sitting up. “Everything good?”

“Fine,” she said distantly, suddenly the same shade of white as her t-shirt.

Ryder, his eyes wide, put an arm around her shoulders to keep her from swaying off the sofa. “Jesus, is winning Mario Kart that exciting?” he asked.

“That’s like, November…” Sven said, frowning. “Why is Thanksgiving making you pass out?”

“I’m not passing out,” Anna said, her voice distant, and Kristoff swore under his breath, hastily getting to his feet and crossing to the kitchen himself to get a glass of water. “I’m pregnant, though.”

No one reacted until Elsa’s phone hit the floor, and then they all burst into a cacophony of questions.

“You’re  _ what--” _

“How long have you--”

“What the  _ fuck _ \--”

“I think I am going to actually pass out if you don’t all shut up,” Anna said, her voice suddenly nearly a shout, and they all froze and turned to look at her. 

Kristoff handed her the glass of water then, and she took a long gulp before meeting her sister’s gaze. “I was going to tell you tonight, Elsa,” she explained, “you know, family and all. And the rest of you guys in a few more weeks when, you know, it’s less…” She waved a hand. “Risky. But...yes. We’re, uh, we’re having a baby. November 12th, mark your calendars for Anna Arendelle’s performance of a lifetime.”

Sven was the first to speak. “Damn,” he said, taking a sip of the beer he’d finally regained the sense to crack open, “you’re really gonna do that to some kid?”

“Do what?” she asked with a slight frown.

“Make him be a goddamn giant  _ and _ a ginger.”

* * *

**april**

“You don’t have to stay up with me,” Anna said hoarsely as he passed her a glass of water. "You only signed up for morning sickness duties, not every hour of the day and night sickness watch."

“I won’t be able to sleep knowing you don’t feel good.”

“Yeah, but now you won’t be able to stay awake at the clinic tomorrow.”

“That’s what coffee is for,”

She sighed and wiped her hand across her mouth. “I think it’s over for now.”

Kristoff leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her temple. “Are you sure?”

“No. But I hope it is.”

“Me, too,” he said, getting to his feet before reaching down and offering a hand to help her up. She stumbled slightly, and he caught her, eyebrows knitting together with concern. “Come on, let’s get you back to bed.”

“I wanna brush my teeth,” she said, yawning.

He waited while she did, and she couldn’t help but smile at him in the mirror when he let out his own yawn, rubbing sleepily at his eyes under his glasses. “I love you,” she said around the toothbrush, and he laughed.

“Even though it’s my fault you’re sick right now?”

“Both of ours, really. Your fault for being so handsome, and my fault for taking full advantage of that,” she said, cheerful again now that the nausea had passed as she bounced back to bed. “Or maybe it’s the baby’s fault.”

“We’ll have to give her a stern talking to,” Kristoff replied, lifting the blankets for her as she clambered in. “Put her in timeout and everything.”

Anna laughed, nestling against his chest the moment he was beside her once more. “You really are convinced it’s a girl, aren’t you?”

“Mmhmm,” he said, kissing the top of her head. “Who’s going to look exactly like you.”

“I don’t know,” she hummed. “I’m kind of hoping for a little boy.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. I just...sometimes I think about what it’ll be like when they’re here, and I just...I keep imagining how it would feel to look over and see you holding a little boy and think ‘that’s him, that’s our son’.”

Suddenly there was a lump in his throat. “Well...well, I guess that would be okay, too.”

* * *

Sam was surprisingly misty-eyed when she told him. “Look at you, kiddo,” he kept saying, over and over, and she was half-tempted to get up and walk around his desk to give him a hug around the neck.

Lena, though, was so efficiently business-like that Anna just sat silently in her chair, grateful for Kristoff’s hand in hers. “Do we have a timeline?”

“Yes, November twelfth is--”

“Not that. For when you want to go public. Although that does give us a firm deadline.”

Anna let out a surprised little laugh, but Lena just raised an eyebrow; apparently that hadn’t been a joke. Kristoff squeezed her hand and said, “The sooner the better. Might as well get it over with.”

“Well, if we go ahead and go public now, it’s going to hurt Anna’s engagement numbers and detract from the film’s first trailer coming out next week. If we wait until, say, June, it’ll fall perfectly in the lull between the first and second trailers and give us time to start setting the narrative on track well before the press tours. I’ll see what I can do to make sure anything out of state is done before you’re not allowed to fly. When’s the wedding?”

Anna blinked for a moment, trying to process the rapid-fire stream of information. “Um. We didn’t set a date yet.”

“Hmm,” Lena said with a frown. “Well, let’s try to get on that. People will want to know. Too bad you’re not already married, I’d say release a picture of you in the dress and you’d be on the cover of  _ People _ . For now, though, just a picture of both of you is enough.”

“We don’t want to do that, though,” Anna said quickly before Kristoff could start to get nervous. “Just let them know that he, you know, exists. I don’t want to make it easier for them to find him.”

“Alright. I’d suggest social media, since your fans feel very close to you and will appreciate hearing it directly. But an interview is always a good default if you want a pro’s help putting it in the best way possible.”

She shifted slightly in her seat. “Um. I’m kind of...out of my depth here. Sam?”

He blinked. “Oh, sorry, I was just-- do you remember the day you wandered into my office for the first time, kiddo, with those roller skates?”

“Of course I do,” she said fondly.

“Anyway. I’d do the interview. Better safe than sorry.”

Lena nodded. “Right. Let me find someone willing to do a feature on you,” she said, diving back in to her laptop. 

The rest of them sat in awkward silence for a moment before Kristoff cleared his throat. “So,” he began, “what do I need to do?”

Sam shrugged. “Be on good behavior. Don’t do anything that would embarrass her. Don’t go out in pajamas or get a DUI or anything. If the fans are getting too pushy, help her get out. If paparazzi starts shouting, don’t ever shout back. Even if they say--”

“Done,” Lena announced suddenly. “Tomorrow afternoon downtown. No lunch required, just tea, so no need to worry about getting sick.”

“I haven’t been  _ that _ sick,” Anna said defensively, and beside her Kristoff coughed.

Sam grinned again. “Look at you, kiddo,” he said again. 

“Look at me what, puking?”

“Getting ready to be a mom,” he said, and suddenly she felt a little misty-eyed, too.

* * *

**may**

“Jesus!” Anna yelped. “I was dead asleep!”

“Sorry,” Kristoff mumbled as he sat down on the warm spot on the sofa she’d just been evicted from, settling her on his lap and promptly burying his face in her shoulder.

She frowned, carding her fingers through his hair. “I was having a very good dream, I’ll have you know,” she said, though there was no real irritation in her voice. “About puppies, I think.”

“You can go back to sleep,” he said, his voice muffled against her shirt.

“I will when you tell me what’s wrong.”

His arms tightened around her waist. “Give me a minute.”

She hummed her agreement and turned to press a kiss into his hair, relishing the feel of him so close against her, enough that their breathing was slowly syncing up as their chests rose and fell together. Worry was tugging at her, to be sure, about what could have upset him enough to not bother with even a hello, but it helped more than a little to know that he would tell her before long so she could help fix it, instead of letting it linger like an untreated wound in his heart.

“Sorry,” he said again, pulling back with a sigh to rest his forehead against hers. “Just needed a second.”

“‘S’okay, baby. No rush.”

He closed his eyes, moving the hand that wasn’t supporting her back to rest against her still-flat stomach. “At the store...there was stuff in the tabloids. About this.”

“But I...how would anyone know?”

“It said ‘a source from the set of Arendelle’s new movie’.”

“Fuck. I knew people were going to start being suspicious of me being sick all the time. Well, they were going to find out soon enough anyway, weren’t they?” she said, hoping she sounded reassuring despite the pit that had just opened up in her chest.

“It said the baby is Hans’s,” he said bleakly, and a little gasp slipped out from her before she could hold it back.

For a moment they just held each other, letting the news sink in. Anna ran a hand up and down Kristoff’s back, and he sighed, still keeping his forehead pressed against hers. “I’m sorry you had to see that, Kris,” she said quietly.

“I know with...with you being famous and stuff, you’re always going to kind of belong to other people. But the baby...she’s just ours. And I guess it was stupid of me, but I was kind of hoping it would always be like that. That the whole time people knew about her, they would know the truth.”

“About him,” Anna said, and he huffed out a laugh. “Sorry, too soon to be teasing you?”

“No. It helps. You’re definitely wrong, though. I’m certain of it.”

She laughed then, too, and kissed him. “The interview will be out soon, then everyone will know it’s been you all along, and that it’s your son in there.”

“Daughter. And...okay. If you’re sure.”

“Yeah. I’m ready for this part to be over. I know it’s gonna be hard on you, and I’m sorry you’ll have to deal with the bullshit, but...damn, it’s been hard keeping you a secret. I just want to parade you around town and be like ‘hey guys, guess who got lucky and convinced the hottest guy in the world to marry her?’”  
“Now you’re just being corny to cheer me up. Literally last night you called me Grandpa again when I put my glasses on.”

“Yeah, but you’re a  _ sexy _ grandpa. Which is how we ended up in this mess in the first place.”

“Not a mess. Just an...unexpected journey.”

Anna grinned and kissed the tip of his nose. “Is that your way of asking me if we can have a Lord of the Rings marathon tonight to cheer you up?”

“You know me too well. And yes.”

“Did you get popcorn?”

“Mhmm. Think you can keep it down?”

“Nope,” she said cheerfully. “Good thing I have a fiance to hold my hair back, eh?”

* * *

“Wait!” 

Everyone turned and looked at Anna as she dug through her purse. “I want to take a picture of this,” she explained. “So I can remember the face he makes.”

Kristoff raised an eyebrow, one hand still in the gift bag. “Should I be nervous?”

“No, just--” She grinned and held up her phone. “You’ll see.”

“Can I open it now?”

She nodded, bouncing on the balls of her feet with excitement. “Happy birthday, Kris.”

He reached into the bag and pulled out a square of fabric; he let it fall open and, after reading what was on the front of the t-shirt, looked at Anna with a mixture of shock and amusement.

Ellie squinted at it from the far end of the table. “Best dad ever? Why does it say that? I don’t get it.”

And then she did get it all at once, her eyes going wide as she clapped a hand over her mouth. “Oh!”

Kristoff’s mother was already weeping and throwing her arms over his shoulders, and his brothers looked awkward but pleased all the same as they clapped him on the back, and Ellie was already squealing and tugging on her sister’s hand and spouting off something about names, and beside Anna Kristoff’s father smiled and set a hand on her shoulder.

“Congratulations,” he said, his eyes kind and full of warmth, and suddenly she was wishing her own father was here, wondering what he would have said, how broadly he would have smiled.

“Thank you, Mr. Bjorgman,” she said, and when he saw her lip start to wobble he pulled her into a tight hug.

“You can call me Cliff, you know,” he said softly. “Or whatever else you’d like. Shoot, might as well go ahead and help me get some practice in, start calling me Grandpa if you want.”

She laughed at that. “Cliff for now, I think.”

“Fine with me,” he said, gently patting her back. “I hope you know we’re here to help both of you with whatever you need. And that you’re welcome up here anytime, with or without him. Don’t even have to call ahead, just come right in the back door and tell me you want pickles or something, whatever it is. Don’t have much experience in this department of parenting, but I’ll try my best.”

“Thank you,” she said, holding on tighter for just a moment before pulling away to face the rest of them. 

* * *

**june**

_ look it’s official _

_ lena had a copy mailed to the house _

He squinted at the photo she had texted him, scrolling through the full-page article dedicated to Anna’s rapid rise to fame. He couldn’t help but grin at the mentions of her tampon commercial and unexpected viral fame; she had to have been irritated at that being brought up again. There were photos of her in that blue gown, too, the one she’d worn for the Netflix movie and been so excited to show him. And then there, at the end, was the all-important “what are you doing now” section, the one she had rehearsed with him over and over the night before the interview.

_ “What’s next for you, Anna?” I ask, and she gives me a bright smile as she sets down her cup of (herbal) tea. _

_ “Well, I’m going to wrap up filming for the sequel, of course, but then I’m going to take a step back from the spotlight for a little bit to focus on my family.” _

_ “Your sister?”  _

_ “My fiance Kristoff, actually, and our first baby. We’re really excited,” she adds with her trademark bright smile, and I can’t help but smile back at her _ .

He grinned and closed the picture so he could type back a response, but before he’d even started a phone call came through. He frowned; it was just a number, no name, but it looked familiar somehow. “Hello?” he asked, expecting it to be a telemarketer.

“Kristoff? It’s Sam.”

“What’s up?”

“I, uh, I don’t know if you saw yet, but just...don’t panic.”


	22. different kinds of grenades

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> evidently i can only write this fic in bursts....if i was a sensible person, i would write it all at once and then post throughout the course of the week, but i am instead the kind of person who writes 75k words of kristanna modern au and still isn't done, so we all know i'm never going to do that

“Are you going to stay here forever?”

Warm, familiar lips pressed against the sliver of her temple that poked out from the top of the blanket pile. “That’s the plan.”

“Hmm. Okay. Guess there’s worse places to spend the rest of my life,” Anna heard him say, and then the mattress dipped beneath the weight of him as he settled behind her, curving against her back as best he could with a knot of blankets in the way. “Then again, it’s June in California and you’re bundled up for a snowstorm. I can’t imagine this ending well.”

“Go away,” she mumbled, turning to bury her face in the mattress as tears leaked from the corners of her eyes.

Kristoff was quiet for a long moment, then she felt the mattress shift again as he sat up. “Do you mean that?”

She didn’t, but she couldn’t bear to look at him right now. “Yes.”

He kissed the top of her head before getting back off the bed and shutting the door behind him without another word.

* * *

All things considered, it wasn’t quite how Kristoff had envisioned spending the anniversary of the day she’d told him she wanted him to be her boyfriend and he’d said “okay”. A full year; he couldn’t stop marveling at it, at how much at changed and yet how quickly the time had flown, how much love he could fit into three hundred and sixty-five days and yet still feel a sudden flash of surprise when she leaned up on her toes to kiss his cheek.

He was trying to focus on that rather than the fact that she didn’t want to talk to him. Or touch him, or even look at him. He had at least caught a glimpse of her as she shuffled into the bathroom, still engulfed in a blanket, but he hadn’t dared to speak and she hadn’t spared him even a glance before going back to the bedroom. 

It’d had been a full four months, he realized suddenly, since they had had a real argument. And they had agreed then to talk things out with each other, to be honest, and he’d been working on not keeping things locked inside, and she’d been working on taking better care of herself, because in five more months it wouldn’t just be themselves they were responsible for anymore.

But none of that was the problem this time. He knew exactly what was bothering her, and she knew what was bothering him, and she had been honest with not only him but the entire world, and somehow that had gotten them into the greatest mess they’d encountered yet, and he didn’t have the slightest idea how to help get back out of it.

It was stupid, really, how much power the internet had. He was more grateful than ever that he’d never bothered with social media accounts apart from the Twitter Anna had helped him make. Well-- that, and now the Instagram account he’d made after trying and failing to understand exactly what Sam had explained to him on the phone.

It had made a lot more sense when he had seen it himself. The picture Hans had posted of Anna in Moscow, looking back at the photographer with a surprised smile, her eyes bright and her hair fluttering in the wind. And the caption, just a stupid broken heart emoji, that apparently was meaningful enough for the photo to have ten thousand comments and counting. He had only scrolled through them for a minute before feeling too nauseated to keep reading. There were only so many times he could take reading “what a whore” and “omg was she cheating?” and “do u think she even knows who the father is?”

His phone buzzed on the sofa next to him with a text from Sven.  _ How’s she holding up? _

Kristoff sighed and glanced back at the closed door before typing out a response.  _ Not looking good over here. _

_ Damn. I’m still checking Twitter, by the way. I think the response tweet helped. #WhoIsKristoff is number three now _

_ Is #AnnaArendelleIsOverParty still number one _

_ Do you want to know the answer to that? _

_ I mean, you just basically answered it.  _

Before another response could come through, he heard a creak and glanced up to see Anna peering out at him, red-faced and sniffly. “Can I come sit with you?” she asked timidly. 

“You don’t even have to ask, baby,” he said, patting the spot next to him.

She chose instead to straddle his lap, still holding the blanket over her shoulders as she tucked her face against his neck. “Happy anniversary, Kris,” he heard her mumble as a fresh wave of tears began to soak into the collar of his t-shirt.

He took hold of the blanket, tucking it in around her before hugging her around the waist. “It’s okay. We can celebrate another time.”

“I’m really sorry I let this make me forget.”

“You’ve already apologized to me a million times the last two days, and none of it has been your fault. Including that.”

“But  _ you _ remembered.”

Kristoff sighed. “I’m really not mad at you.”

“It would be easier if you were.”

“Why?”

He felt her shrug. “You’re just...just so  _ good _ to me. Even though every time I try and do something for you I end up making your life miserable.”

“What do you mean?” he asked, frowning.

“Like I showed up in your life and kissed you and then ran away. And then I came back and asked you to try again, and then I left for six weeks. And-- and then I said I loved you, and then I got cast in that fucking movie, which is the reason Hans even knows I exist, and then I was gone so much and made you feel like shit, so then I came back early and forgot my pill like a fucking  _ idiot _ and got knocked up and everyone thinks it’s his. And then, like, the  _ one _ thing you asked was that you didn’t have to go public, but now because of that we have to and I  _ tried _ , Kris, I really did, and I had  _ no  _ idea Hans would find a way to turn it into this.”

His heart was pounding by the time she finished; there was a heat rising in him, enough that he could feel his cheeks flushing. He was angry, now, at Hans and the world and, if he was being honest, a little bit at her. “I-- how can you still think that about yourself, Anna? That you just make me miserable?”

“Because I  _ do _ , Kris, like this morning I was such a bitch to you and--”

“ _ Stop _ , okay? Don’t-- don’t try and tell me how I should feel about this. About any of it.”

“Sorry,” she whispered again, and for a moment he closed his eyes as tight as he could, drawing in a deep breath before he dropped a kiss against the top of her head.

“All I’ve ever wanted is you, Anna,” he said quietly. “You, and now the baby.  _ Our _ baby. And I never,  _ ever _ thought that I could be this…. _ happy _ , I guess, but that’s not the right word for it. I know it feels like shit keeps hitting the fan, like,  _ constantly _ , but we have so many good days in between, baby, and even when you’re gone or we’ve argued or now with this, I’m just...I don’t know.”

She had turned her face where it rested against his shoulder, and if he craned his neck he could meet her teary-eyed gaze. “I know things look really bad right now for your career,” he said, knowing there was no point in sugarcoating it. “And that the media is going to be brutal. But I’m still here, and I still love you. And that’s all I’ve got to offer, but I hope it’s enough.”

“You’re always enough, Kris,” she said, sliding one hand up to rest just over his heart. “But I’m worried that one day  _ I _ won’t be. That just loving me won’t be able to make up for the rest of the other shit.”

He covered his hand with her own, and despite himself, he smiled a little when he felt the diamond in her engagement ring press against his palm. “You’re always enough, too,” he said, and she gave him a little smile in return. “And we’re going to figure this out together, just like everything else.”

She nodded, closing her eyes again as she nestled closer against his chest. “Thank you. It’s just that I, like...like I know you’re going to say stuff like that to me, and that you mean it, but sometimes I just...I don’t know. I know it, but I can’t believe it.”

His phone buzzed then, and she pulled away to grab it and hand it to him before settling against him again. He peered at the screen; another message from Sven-- and suddenly an idea was blooming in his mind.

“Anna?”

“Hmm?” she mumbled, nuzzling her face against his neck and pressing a soft kiss there.

“How do you feel about getting out of the house for a little while?” 

“I don’t know if I’m ready to face the whole world yet, even with you there.”

“Don’t worry. I don’t mean going out in public, just...somewhere you like. That I think would cheer you up.”

He waited, holding his breath, and then he felt her nod against his neck. “Okay,” she said, her voice barely audible. “I trust you.”

* * *

Despite having stayed in bed all day, she hadn’t really slept much, and she’d spent most of the night before lying flat on her back staring up at the ceiling, worried and angry and just plain scared thoughts flipping through her mind like the clacking wheel of a rigged carnival game where the only prize was something new to stress over. But now, sitting in the reclined passenger seat of Kristoff’s car while his hand curled comfortingly over her knee, she was finally able to doze off, feeling a sense of peace at last creeping in to cover the sense of unease that had been running rampant through her ever since Lena had sent her a frantic text only an hour after her article had been published and two minutes after Hans’s post had gone up. It hadn’t even been thirty-six hours, but it felt like a lifetime somehow, separating whoever she was now from the girl who had thought that somehow telling the truth would set the whole world to rights in one go. 

She was woken by Kristoff gently squeezing her leg. “Wake up, baby,” he said, and when she did she saw him smiling softly at the way she had fallen asleep, one hand over his and the other pressed against the barely-there swell of her stomach, the one that only the two of them had been able to notice so far.

“Where are we?” she asked through a yawn, and he laughed.

“Look out the window. And let me know if you want me to carry you upstairs for old times’ sake.”

She followed his directions, a gasp escaping her almost immediately. “Oh my god! Nothing’s changed here, has it?”

He laughed and squeezed her hand. “I think that’s a new dumpster, maybe.”

“Is it weird to say I miss this parking lot?”

“Nah. Lots of good memories,” he said, coming around the car to open the door for her.

She grinned and took his proffered hand, tightening her fingers around his as they made their way up to his old apartment building, failing to contain her giggles when she saw that the elevator was down again. “Does he know we’re coming?” she asked.

“Yeah. He’s really excited, seriously. He just sent me a bunch of emojis and a gif of one of the Kardashians.”

“I  _ knew _ he’d get tired of the quiet before long,” Anna said triumphantly as she raised a hand to knock on the door. “And that you’d learn how to say Kardashian one of these days.”

The door flew open so quickly she knew Sven had to have been waiting. A huge smile was on his face as he pulled her into a tight hug. “Hey, Anna. Good to see you. How’s my godson?”

“God _ daughter _ ,” Kristoff said, pretending to be irritated, and Anna laughed. “I’ll be right back. Chinese food good with both of you?”

Anna glanced back over her shoulder, not quite ready to let go of Sven just yet. “What do you mean? We can just order in.”

He shifted uncomfortably from side to side. “And then the delivery person would see you, and us, and…”

Her face fell as she let go of Sven and turned to face Kristoff properly. “Oh.”

“I’ll be back fast, though. I promise. Kick ass at Mario Kart for me while I’m gone, yeah?” he said, leaning down to kiss her cheek.

“I will,” Sven said, though the cheeriness in his voice sounded a little more forced this time.

When the door closed behind Kristoff, there was a beat of uncomfortable silence as Anna turned back to face Sven, unsure where to begin. To her relief, he took the lead. “How are you? For real, don’t bullshit me and tell me it’s all fine.” 

She sighed. “Can we talk while we play a game or something? It’s easier when I don’t have to like, look at your eyes and see you being all sympathetic and nice to me.”

“Sure. Mario Party 8? I’m never nice to you during that.”

“Can we play like...something with guns? What’s that game all the kids play?”

He raised his eyebrows. “You want me to teach you how to play Fortnite?”

“If it means blowing shit up, then yes. Teach me all about it, Svensei.”

“That’s still my least favorite nickname you’ve come up with,” he said drily, crossing to the fridge. “Go ahead and sit down. You want a beer or-- oh, right. Duh. I’ve got chocolate milk? And water, obviously.”

“Water, please. Chocolate is the only thing that still makes me sick.”

He gasped dramatically as he pulled down two cups. “No shit? That’s fucked up, man.”

“I know, right? That’s probably why Kristoff is freaking out about cheering me up, he can’t just get me a giant bag of M&Ms any more.”

Sven sat beside her and passed her a glass of water. “Cheers,” he said, clinking his cup against hers.

“You can have a beer if you want, you know.”

He shrugged. “Solidarity. Gotta start early so that when he starts throwing a tantrum for a toy or something he knows you and me are a united front. It’s Bjorgman we gotta worry about. You and me both know he’s a soft touch.”

Anna set her cup down so she could turn to face him, sitting cross-legged on the sofa they had ended up buying for him after all. “Do you think he’s going to be okay?”

“‘Course he will. It’s you we’re worried about.”

“But like...I knew what I was signing up for when I decided to be an actress. He just kind of got dragged along for the ride. And he took it really hard when people first started all the rumors about me and Ha--”

“He-who-must-not-be-named. Continue.”

“Okay, him. And anyway, now he’s so worried about me he’s not taking time to worry about himself, you know? And I was kind of a bitch to him this morning for no reason, and then like a dumbass I didn’t realize it was our anniversary til way later.”

“Let me guess,” Sven said, leaning back against the cushions and giving her a knowing glance. “Before an argument even started, one of you-- or both of you-- got started apologizing. And then you started snuggling and said a bunch of cheesy shit and worked it out.”

In spite of her reddening face, Anna couldn’t help but smile. “Are we that predictable?”

“You forget I put up with listening to this shit for like six months. The walls are thin in this apartment. I’m pretty sure I heard ‘love you back, baby’ more times than I heard the headboard banging against the wall. Which, just saying, was  _ a lot _ of times.”

“...sorry.”

“A little late for that now, eh?” he said with a playful wink.

“But be serious with me, please, I-- I know you’re trying to cheer me up, but you’re just...I don’t know. You’re good at knowing what to say when neither of us do.”

“I am, aren’t I?” he said with a laugh before rearranging his face into a more serious expression. “I mean, it’s not going to be easy on either of you, is it? Going public was going to be rough anyway, but like...is there anything you can do? To prove that Hans is full of shit and you guys never dated?”

She shook her head. “We were so focused on being private for so long we don’t even like, take pictures on our own together. There’s no proof, not even with like, the deed to the house. I’m the only one on it.”

“Shit. Well...I don’t know. Sometimes stuff like this blows over, sometimes it doesn’t. You just gotta wait it out and see, I guess.”

Anna sighed. “That’s not making me feel better.”

“Why not? I mean...you’ve got, what, a week left filming this sequel?”

“Yeah.”

“And after that, what’s on the schedule?”

“Nothing. Just doctor’s appointments as far as the eye can see. And wedding planning if we can ever pick a date.”

“See? That’s what I’m talking about.” Sven said, reaching out to tug on the end of her braid. “You’re so worried about what random people think on Twitter you’re forgetting to be happy about getting married and having a baby.”

She blinked at that and took a long sip of water to cover her surprise. Sven grinned at her, knowing he’d managed once more to know just what to say. “See there,” he said, pleased with himself, “that’s why you picked me. I’m gonna give this kid so much godfatherly advice.”

“In my defense,” she said, “my whole job is kind of based on what randoms on Twitter think.”

“Your job is based on being a good actress. Which you are. Nobody’s going to give a shit about this after the movie comes out.”

“What if they do?”

He sighed dramatically. “Shit, Anna, then I guess you’re stuck with a husband and a kid and a house and a million dollars and the world’s best best friend.”

She perked up at that. “ _ Am _ I your best friend?”

“Well. Tied with Kris, of course, I can’t completely betray him. I’m just saying, he hasn’t asked me to be his best man yet, and I always  _ did _ want to be a maid of honor…”

Anna laughed and leaned over the sofa to give him a hug around the neck. “Thanks, Sven,” she said softly. “I feel better, and I didn’t even shoot a cartoon gun yet.”

He patted her affectionately on the back. “You’ll feel even better when I tell you about all the different kinds of grenades.”

  
  
  
  



	23. midsummer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hiatus over :) can't promise super regular updates but i will continue working on this again

“Kris! Kris, thank god you’re finally here!”

He nearly dropped the plastic bags in fright at the sound of Anna’s shout through the open front door. “What’s wrong?” he called, feeling his heart already beginning to pound; there were so many things that could go wrong, things that kept him up half the night, and he’d known this was all too good to be true and--

But then she got close enough he could see she was smiling, and he did drop the bags then-- carefully, though, and not a moment too soon, because she launched herself at him, flinging her arms around his neck as he caught her and hoisted her up so she could wrap her legs around his waist. He couldn’t hold her as close as he used to even a few weeks ago. He’d started to wonder if she was slender enough that she’d ever show at all, and then one day he’d come in to join her in the shower and done a double-take at the sight of her standing there with her hand on the now unmistakable swell of her belly and examining herself in the mirror.

“Kris,” she said breathlessly, bringing him back to the present moment. “Guess what?”

“What, baby?” he asked, knowing he was wearing his dopiest smile as he looked up at her.

“I felt him moving around in there! I thought like-- TMI, sorry-- I thought maybe it was a fart but it kept  _ happening _ , and I googled it and then I called the doctor’s office and they laughed and were like ‘yeah, Anna, that’s the baby’ and-- and-- and it’s him, Kris! He’s in there!”

“Well-- well, I would hope he’s still in there,” he managed to say, too dazed for a more coherent response. 

Anna giggled. “So you admit it? That he’s a he?”

“What?” 

Her eyes softened when she realized how stunned he still was. “It’s pretty exciting, huh?”

He hadn’t realized his eyes were welling up with tears until she said that. He managed a nod, and she pressed a kiss to his forehead. “And we’re almost halfway there,” she said softly. “Halfway to meeting him.”

“Or her,” Kristoff managed to whisper. 

She laughed and leaned down to kiss him on the lips then, her fingers tightening their hold on his shoulders when he brushed the tip of his tongue just barely over hers. She had just begun to deepen the kiss further when she jerked back. 

“It happened again!”

Kristoff’s eyebrows flew up. “Like, right now?”

“Uh-huh! It feels all wiggly in there!”

He swallowed hard. “Do you, uh, do you think…”

He trailed off, feeling suddenly embarrassed, but she seemed to understand all the same, giving him another soft smile as she brushed his hair back out of his eyes. “I don’t think you can feel it this early. But soon, though. And we can try anyway if you want.”

He kissed her again, softer this time. “I love you. And the baby.”

She winked at him. “We love you too. Now, ah...is that Chinese food on the back of your car?”

“Uh-huh. Double order of egg rolls.”

“Oh,  _ fuck _ yes,” she groaned, wriggling in his arms until he set her down with a chuckle. “This is why I’m marrying you.”

“Really? I thought it was because it means a lifetime supply of sweatshirts to steal.”

“Oh, I forgot about that,” she said, already rummaging through the bags and cracking open a container of dumplings. “Also how sexy you look in your reading glasses.”

“Can’t believe you’re so hung up on me being a sexy grandpa when I’m not even officially a dad yet.”

She shrugged and popped a dumpling into her mouth. “Official enough for me, Pops,” she said around a mouthful of food. “Want some?”

“Nah. Those are all for you.”

She swallowed and let out a dreamy sigh. “Fuck, I  _ really _ love you.”

* * *

“You’re sure this is all you want to do for your birthday?” Kristoff asked from behind the wheel as he turned to her.

“Uh-huh.”

“Even though it’s not until tomorrow, so if you want to, you can have  _ two _ birthdays? I’m serious, I know tomorrow’s Monday and I’ve got work, but I can still get Sven and your sister and--”

“I’m serious,” she insisted. “Even if it wasn’t for the whole still-hiding-out thing, I’d just want to spend today with you somewhere we both love.”

His cheeks colored slightly at that as he looked away from her and started to drive again. “But you like parties. Or going places. Or--”

“Kristoff, baby, I can’t drink right now, I can’t ride anything good at Disneyland, my old cute clothes don’t fit anymore, and I don’t  _ want _ to do any of that these days, anyway. All I want to do is eat and sleep and, uh…”

Now she was the one blushing. 

“And what?” he pressed, glancing back at her with a teasing glint in his eye.

“Remember what we did the first time we went to this beach?”

“Played in the rain?”

“No…”

“Splashed in the water even though I told you it was storming?”

“Kris!”

He laughed and reached over to set his hand on her knee, giving it an affectionate squeeze and leaving it there, the way that still made her heart flutter after a year and an engagement and a house and a baby. “ _ Yes _ , I remember. And if you’re really up for it…”

“You have  _ no _ idea,” she muttered under her breath, and when she glanced up again his cheeks were even redder than before.

* * *

Anna’s car was parked in front of the house when he got home, but there was no sign of her once he stepped inside. She was in the kitchen more often than not these days, or napping in the living room otherwise, but when he didn’t even see her in the bathroom turning side to side and examining her reflection, Kristoff began to get worried. “Anna?” he called.

“Out back,” she shouted, and he went to the window and saw her lying on her back on a blanket in the backyard. 

Relieved, he joined her on the blanket, sitting beside her and letting his legs sprawl out. She shifted to rest her head on his lap, giving him a small smile. “How was your day?” she asked.

“Good. Lots of cute kittens. And I took a million pictures for you.”

“Did you cuddle them?”

He chuckled and brushed a stray lock of hair off her forehead. “Yes. All afternoon. And Ryder made sure there’s pictures of that, too.”

Her smile grew just a little. “Good.”

“What about you?”

The smile faded. “It was, uh...I mean, I’ve had worse days.”

Kristoff frowned as he continued stroking her hair. “It was just reshoots, right? Did they not go well?”

“No, no, they were fine. Well, costuming was kind of flustered with how much bigger I managed to get in three weeks, but we made it work.”

He moved his hand to rest on the curve of her stomach, moving gently back and forth in hopes of a response, but he felt nothing. Anna must have seen the disappointment in his face, because she turned and pressed a kiss to the side of his knee. “He’s moving in there right now, I promise. He knows it’s you.”

For a moment, the sudden swell of love in his chest distracted him, and then he saw the droop of her expression once more and frowned. “So what happened, baby?”

She sighed, closing her eyes. “I got papped when I left the set with Adam. There was a whole mob of them, must have known we were doing reshoots there. And Lena texted and said some are already on TMZ, and that Hans already tweeted something else weird and subtweety, and just...I thought it would die down. But it’s not really.”

He nudged her shoulder. “Will you sit up for me?”

“Why?”

“So I can hold you better.”

She let out a resigned huff and complied, though once his arms were around her she nestled close to him, pressing her face against his neck close enough that he could tell she was beginning to smile again.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, dropping a kiss on the top of her head. “That it’s happening, and that I can’t do anything to help except this.”

“This is good,” she replied, giving him a kiss in return against his collarbone. “This is all that matters, anyway.”

* * *

Sven was nearly beside himself with excitement when he flung open the door. “Did it work this time? Could they see it?”

“Jesus!” Anna yelped, a hand flying instinctively to her stomach. “I thought this was just for the Fourth of July, not a surprise party.”

“Do I need to revoke your key privileges?” Kristoff asked drily.

“You say that now, but when you see the ribs I’ve got waiting for you guys out back--”

“Oh,  _ hell _ yes,” Anna cheered, pushing past him to go see.

“Well?” Sven asked Kristoff expectantly, tapping his foot. “Did you find out or not?”

“Maybe we did, maybe we didn’t.”

“Okay, you  _ definitely _ did. Because last time when it didn’t work, you were all mopey about it, but I  _ know _ that smirk, Bjorgman. So it’s official now, right? I’m getting a godson?”

“No,” called Elsa as she came up behind them with a fruit tray in hand, closely followed by Honey and Ryder. “But I’m getting a niece.”

“Okay, okay, this is a cookout, not a gender reveal party,” Kristoff insisted as he finally managed to squeeze past them all and step into the kitchen. “So maybe we won’t even tell you guys today. Anyone else want a beer?”

“I do,” Anna called cheerfully, the back door slapping shut behind her. “But I’ll settle for tomato juice.”

Ryder gagged. “You’re drinking that  _ without _ it being mixed with vodka?”

“Yeah. It’s disgusting, isn’t it?” she said, reaching past Kristoff to grab the bottle. “But apparently I’m craving this, and chocolate milk still makes me puke.”

“Shit,” he said with a low whistle. “You’re really taking one for the team, huh? Eating all this gross shit just so we get a cute kid to have around.”

“Just to clarify,” Kristoff said drily as he passed around cans of beer, “that’s  _ not _ the reason we’re having a baby.”

“Nope,” Anna agreed. “But I’m sure he appreciates you saying that. He’s gonna be spoiled, huh?”

The room was suddenly completely silent apart from the sound of Anna gulping down her glass of tomato juice. When she had finished, she swiped the back of her hand across her mouth and frowned. “What? Is it seriously  _ that _ gross?”

“I-- did you-- is it-- we were-- oh, shit!” Sven stammered out, for once in his life unable to come up with something clever to say. 

Anna gasped, her hand flying to cover her mouth, while Kristoff laughed and pulled his wallet out of his back pocket. “Well, uh, we were going to announce it in a more, uh,  _ intentional _ way, but…” 

He pulled a sonogram picture out of the wallet and laid it on the counter. Immediately everyone crowded around for a closer look. “It’s a boy. And  _ yes _ , Anna was right, and no, Elsa, I don’t have the cash on me right now, so I guess I do have to do the ice bucket thing.”

“It’s a  _ boy _ ?” Elsa squeaked, tears already rolling down her cheeks as she flung herself into Anna’s waiting arms. 

“Yeah,” Anna laughed, holding her sister as close as she could. “About time we had one in our family, huh?”

“I know I said I wanted it to be a girl,” Elsa said, pulling back enough to swipe at her eyes. “But I changed my mind, because-- because oh my  _ god _ , a little boy, Anna!”

“I know!” 

“And he’s  _ yours _ . My little sister is having a  _ baby _ .”

“I promise this is her first beer of the night,” Honey said teasingly, though her eyes were tender as she watched Elsa step back with a watery smile.

“Oh, shit!” Sven said, raising his own. “Let’s like, toast to this. Cheers, everybody, to it being a boy and me and Anna being right and the rest of you--”

“Cheers!” the rest of them called in unison, cutting him off. 

Anna laughed and picked up the sonogram as they all drank. “Not naming names, but I think  _ somebody _ around here owes me money, too,” she said, turning to the fridge. “Which I need, apparently, to buy some new magnets so I can hang this-- oh, shit!”

She’d chosen the worst magnet to remove from the collage of snapshots they had on the fridge, because most of them came cascading down to the floor. Kristoff bent quickly to scoop them up, but when Anna set a hand on his shoulder, he paused, looking up at her.

“Kris,” she asked, her voice low as she pointed at a polaroid on the floor. “What’s that one?”

He held it up to her. “You and me, when you wore that silver dress...what party was that? Why do I remember that--”

His eyes widened as they landed on the orange date printed in the corner. “Oh,  _ shit _ .”

“I’m not seeing things, right?” Anna breathed. “Like, it actually says January 1st, and it’s definitely you and me, and-- and  _ anyone _ who saw that would know that, right?”

“Is, uh, is everything okay?” Ryder asked, peering over at them. “Like, if those are  _ special _ pictures, I promise none of us are look--”

“Oh, shit!” Sven said yet again, and Anna burst into laughter as she glanced up at him, even as tears started cascading down her cheeks. “So if you put that on Instagram or something--”

“It’s over,” she managed to say at last, flinging her arms around Kristoff’s waist when he stood again. “All the bullshit. Things can-- things can go back to normal.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	24. late summer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the crazy delay, trying to see if i can finish this fic up this weekend

They all crowded around Anna’s shoulder, waiting with bated breath as she finished choosing a filter for the photo. “Wait,” Kristoff said suddenly, “should we check with Lena about this?”

Anna rolled her eyes. “Fuck Lena,” she said cheerfully, and pressed _post_.

* * *

It was, all things considered, not a particularly interesting day when it happened; it had been a scorcher of a late-July afternoon, and when Kristoff came home from the clinic he found Anna in the backyard lounging in a beach chair she’d finally caved and bought at Target when she could no longer get comfortable lying on a towel spread over the grass.

“Hi, honey,” she said around a mouthful of an orange push pop; the empty box had fallen over by her chair.

He laughed and leaned down to kiss her, setting his palm against the swell of her stomach. “Good thing I bought another box of those on my way home.

Anna thought nothing of it when the baby kicked in response; he’d done so for a while now at the sound of his father’s voice, but Kristoff froze, his face only an inch away from hers as his eyes widened.

Worried, she tilted her head. “Is everything alright?”

He swallowed hard. “Did you feel that?”

“Well, yeah, I’ve been feeling a lot of-- wait. Did _you_?”

He nodded, slowly, and as they stared at each other, stunned, another kick came, sharp enough this time that Anna yelped in surprise. “Okay, you _had_ to have felt that one,” she groused. 

Kristoff nodded again, faster this time, as a laugh spilled from his lips. “It’s _him_ ,” he said, his eyes still wide. “I-- that’s _him_ , Anna.”

Her eyes softened. “You know, we really ought to think of something to call him. I’m worried he’s going to get offended.”

A third kick came in response, and they both took it as a sign of agreement.

* * *

_Sources say Westergaard has spent the past six weeks hiding out in his summer home in the Hamptons. When asked for comment, his representative told Buzzfeed, “Mr. Westergaard’s previous remarks were taken out of context and twisted by the media. He will be starting an anti cyberbullying foundation in his name. He asks that you respect his privacy during this difficult time.”_

Sven looked up from the article Kristoff had printed and handed to him. “Shit, how the hell can anybody have a difficult time at a mansion in the Hamptons?”

“Show a little sympathy. The man’s just had to face the consequences of his actions for the first time in his life,” Kristoff said with a smirk. 

“Ought to hang out with a pregnant woman more often, he’d learn his lesson _really_ quickly about the consequences of-- oh, hey, Anna,” Sven said with a grimace. “You, uh, you forgiven me yet for getting onions on the pizza?”

She scowled and crossed her arms, her eyes shooting daggers at him across the room, and he sighed and picked up his phone to order a new one.

* * *

“Anna?” 

She yelped in surprise and tugged the shower curtain back, coming face to face with a frowning Kristoff. “ _Jesus_ , you scared me. What’s wrong?”

“Sorry-- it’s just…” He frowned and held up his phone. “How does Twitter know I’m a vet?”

The bubbles in her hair forgotten, she leaned forward and squinted at the screen. “What? It’s just a picture of us leaving Chipotle.”

“Huh? Oh-- shit, sorry, let me scroll down to the replies.”

He pushed his glasses further up his nose as he did so before raising the phone screen again. “Look, they’re all sending me hamsters.”

She knew he was genuinely worried, and she was sympathetic, _really_ she was, but Anna burst into laughter. “A hamster eating a banana.”

“Yeah, and they’re not supposed to even _eat_ that much, so the bad pet ownership is bad enough already, but-- anyway, that’s beside the point, I--” He scowled. “Anna, I really don’t think this is funny.”

“It’s just a meme, Kristoff.”

“But I don’t get it.”

“Look at the picture of us again, and then the hamster, and then get back to me,” she said, yanking the shower curtain closed again. 

“But--”

“If you still haven’t gotten the joke by the time I figure out how to shave my ankles, then I’ll come explain.”

Twenty minutes later, when she emerged wrapped in a towel, she peered into the bedroom and saw Kristoff sitting on the bed, his face bright red, as he stared down at his phone. “Solve the mystery yet?” she asked drily as she dug through his t-shirt drawer for something to wear.

“My, uh, my little brother, he uh...he knows about memes, so I texted him, and I...uh…”

She laughed again as she finished getting dressed. “Did he laugh at you, too?”

He groaned and ran a hand over his face. “Pretty sure he’s still laughing.”

* * *

“Anna! Anna! Miss Arendelle!”

  
She rolled her eyes and tightened the drawstring of her hoodie. Kristoff put an arm protectively over her shoulders as they continued hurrying out of the doctor’s office. “Miss Arendelle, please, if I could just--”

“You can _not_.”

“We just want to know if it’s a boy or a--”

She turned on her heel and said drily, “It’s a mountain troll, obviously.” She gestured irritably at Kristoff. “See? Takes after his father.”

The next morning, she woke up to the ding of a text from Sam. _Maybe you really are better off being your own PR person._

A link to another Buzzfeed article was attached. Curious, she tapped it.

_Watch Anna Arendelle’s Hilarious Comeback To A Nosy Photographer!_

“Would you look at that,” she mumbled under her breath.

Next to her, Kristoff stirred and rolled over. “Look at what?” he mumbled.

“Nothing. Go back to sleep, mountain man.”

* * *

Anna came home from a meeting one night and caught Kristoff piled up in the recliner reading one of her pregnancy books. To her surprise, his face was ghost-white. “Kris,” she asked, concerned, “what’s wrong? You look like you’re going to be sick.”

“Just, you know, reading about the labor part.”

“Is it grossing you out that bad?” She couldn’t help but giggle. “You’re a vet, I’m sure you’ve seen worse. Especially with this stuff.”

He looked up then, and to her surprise, his eyes were solemn behind his glasses. “It’s different when you’re picturing your fiancee.”

All the air in her lungs escaped her in a quiet _oh_. She crossed quickly to the bed and climbed up, crawling towards him. He set the book on the nightstand and looked up at her, worry still in his eyes, as she settled her knees on either side of his lap. Out of habit, he set one hand on the swell of her stomach, the faintest of smiles appearing on his face when a little foot nudged against his hand.

“It’s gonna be okay, sweetheart,” she said softly, settling her own hands on his shoulders. “It’ll all be fine.”

“Sometimes it’s not, though.” 

She winced, and immediately he was apologetic. “I-- shit, sorry, I’m not trying to scare you, it’s just--”

“No, no, you’re right,” she reassured him, gently squeezing his shoulders. “Sometimes it’s not. But it will be. You know me, I’m too stubborn to let anything go wrong.”

“I don’t think it works like that.”

She bit her lip; she had never seen him like this, never known him to be so nervous he couldn’t be comforted. She leaned forward, resting her forehead against his. “What part is scaring you?” she asked, her voice low.

“I don’t want to see you hurting. Especially when I know I can’t do anything to help.”

“You _can_ help. Just having you in there will do so much.”

“But it won’t stop it,” he said, his voice forlorn, and she kissed his cheek, letting her lips linger there as she nuzzled her nose against his temple.

“No. But that’s what epidurals are for”

“What if--” he said before trailing off, not daring to even give voice to the words.

“Kristoff Bjorgman, you listen to me,” she said, pulling back and waiting to continue until he reluctantly met her gaze. “I have no doubt in my mind that everything will be fine. Okay? I just-- I just won’t let anything bad happen.”

“But you can’t--”

“Have you ever seen anything stop me from doing what I want before?”

She felt him shake his head _no_. 

“So nothing will stop me this time. I’m going to have this baby-- _our_ baby-- and we’re both going to be fine, and you will too, and when we get to hold him, then you’ll forget you were ever worried about this at all.”

* * *

Anna and the interviewer both threw back their heads with a laugh as Mattias finished telling them both about his first time at the Oscars and how he’d failed to recognize the man who’d just won Best Actor-- _twice_.

“How about you, Miss Arendelle?” the interviewer asked as Anna finished wiping the last tear of laughter from her eye. “How do you feel about going to your first Oscars next year?”

She felt her cheeks coloring. “Oh, well, we’ll see if we even get there.”

The interviewer laughed. “Modest as always. There’s already lots of Oscar buzz around the movie and your performance in particular.”

Anna shifted awkwardly in her seat. “Um. Sort of like puking, if I’m honest.”

That got them both laughing again. “Speaking of puking, though,” the interviewer said cheerfully, “what’s it like being a first-time mother and a first-time movie star simultaneously?”

“Amazing and terrifying and wonderful and just...so many things all at once,” she admitted. “I really couldn’t do it without my support network, especially my fiance. It’s just...yeah. I can’t thank everybody enough.”

“Speaking of your fiance...are you willing to share your thoughts on where in the world Hans Westergaard has run off to?”

Her lips curled up into a smirk.

* * *

“Remind me to get more tomato juice at Trader Joe’s today,” Anna called as she pored through another script that had been sent her way-- another period drama, but this one, at least, wouldn’t involve squeezing her recently-pregnant body into a corset.

“We don’t need to,” he replied as he came into the kitchen carrying a basket of freshly dried towels. “You’ve been going through it so fast this week I set up one of those Amazon weekly delivery things. There’ll be three gallons of it on the porch in--” He glanced at his watch. “An hour. Wanna help me fold all this shit and watch HGTV?”

She stared at him for a long moment as he passed her, absentmindedly whistling one of the songs she’d driven him crazy with that winter, and walked into the living room.

It occurred to her, all of a sudden, that some things were worth waiting for-- but that sometimes, there was no longer any worth in waiting.

“Kris?” she said as he set the basket down.

“Yeah, baby?” he asked, raising an eyebrow as she crossed over to him and stood between his knees.

She cupped his face in her hands, studying his expression as he smiled softly and set his own hands on her hips. “Can I say something crazy?”

“You usually don’t bother asking.”

Under normal circumstances, she would have laughed and leaned down to kiss him, but instead she broke into a wide smile. “What if we just got married?”


	25. premieres

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> two chapters to go after this one :)

**september 21st**

It was, to be frank, not the sort of wedding Anna had dreamed of growing up. For one thing, she didn’t even have any white clothes left that fit; for another, the courthouse still sort of smelled like lemon Pine-Sol.

But her sister was there to walk her in, though there wasn’t really an aisle, and Honey and Ryder and Sven and Kristoff’s parents and siblings were all grinning from ear to ear-- well, crying and blowing her nose, in Bulda’s case-- and she did at least have the bouquet of sunflowers that was her one non-negotiable.

One thing, though, was the same thing-- same  _ person _ \-- she had always imagined, and when he blinked back tears as he slid the ring onto her finger she couldn’t help but think of her teenaged self scribbling furiously in her diary about how she’d wear a ballgown and he’d wear a tux and there’d be sunflowers and confetti and doves--

“I do,” Kristoff said, his voice thick with emotion, and really, that was all that mattered.

“Me, too,” she replied, without even thinking, and when he grinned in response as the officiant chuckled, she knew he was thinking the same.

* * *

**october 17th**

Kristoff came home from the clinic and found Anna sitting on the edge of their bed, staring off into space. “Everything okay, baby?”

She nodded. “Just...thinking about the premiere again. They sent the dress over again, said they tailored it for how big I’ll be in a couple weeks. And the doctor said it’s okay. I mean, he wants me to come in the day before, just to make sure, but…”

Anna bit her lip, waiting for a reply. A familiar flicker of protective, instinctive worry flared in his chest, but Kristoff held his tongue and waited for it to settle, the way he’d learned was-- especially now-- so important to making sure she felt heard.

And she kept quiet; he knew she was fighting the urge to ramble to fill the silence, to try and convince him of something before he’d even said he might disagree.

They were still learning, and from what his mother had told him, he knew they still would be for the rest of their lives. And of course there were still the silly arguments over what to watch on TV (usually ending in them watching nothing at all and instead kissing on the sofa while an alien show played in the background) and who was snoring louder (Anna, these days because of the strange poses she struck to try and sleep) and who had eaten the last of the pretzels (which usually ended with them both realizing it’d happened while they were watching the aforementioned alien shows).

But the big things, the ones that  _ mattered _ \-- they were careful, now, more than ever, to make sure that  _ fight _ was never quite the right word for what transpired.

Kristoff sat beside her, taking her hand. “I mean, there’s no point in me explaining all the things that could go wrong, is there?” he asked.

She shook her head. “I promise, I’ve thought about all of them pretty much, like, nonstop,” she said, and he squeezed her hand in response.

Anna’s gaze drifted over to the emerald green dress hanging on the back of the closet door. Kristoff watched her for a moment before saying softly, “But you still want to go.”

She nodded, biting her lip again.

“Can I ask why it feels this important to you?”

He looked over and saw tears were beginning to sparkle in her eyes. “What if this is my only shot, Kris?”

“Your only shot at what?”

“At getting to do something like this. What if I never get a big movie part again? Or what if the baby comes, and I just decide to only be a mom and never act again? And it’s like...I’m not angry about it or anything, you know? Like I love him, and I love you, but this is still...it’s still what I’ve been working for my whole life. And all the shit I put up with filming this, and the stuff with Hans...part of me feels like it’ll be for nothing if I don’t go. And I know that’s stupid, but--”

“Not stupid,” Kristoff interrupted, and she sighed and leaned her head against his shoulder. “It makes perfect sense.”

“I know it’s, like, scary to think that I could just go into labor on the red carpet. And maybe I’m a bad mom for even--”

“ _ Anna _ . Don’t even think that, okay?”

She sniffled, and he lifted his arm to wrap it around her shoulders. “You’re allowed to be more than a mom,” he said as she leaned into him. “And you’re allowed to want things for yourself, especially really big important things like this. And I want them for you, too.”

“I know it makes you nervous, though,” she said softly. “That something would go wrong.”

“I’ve been nervous about that the whole time. But it’s up to you, baby. Well-- you and the doctor, I guess, but if he says you’re in the clear…”

She tilted her head to kiss his shoulder. “And it’s only for the red carpet bit. No way am I sitting through a three hour movie in a ballgown. Which, speaking of--”

She hopped up and waddled towards the bathroom, and Kristoff couldn’t help but laugh as he called after her, “Guess I ought to see if my suit from New Year’s still fits, eh?”

* * *

**november 1**

“Feels kind of full circle, don’t you think?” Anna mused as Honey carefully swiped blush onto her cheeks.

“What does?” Kristoff asked from where he was seated in the recliner, nervously fiddling with his cufflinks.

“I mean, a year ago today is when my first movie dropped, and now today is my first red carpet premiere.”

“Oh, shit, it’s only been a year?”

Anna giggled. “You’re telling me. I feel like I’ve already been pregnant that long.”

Honey rolled her eyes. “Hold still, Anna.”

“Sorry, sorry! Thanks again for doing this, by the way. I know it had to’ve been a pain in the ass for you to get ready so early and then come all the way up here.”

Her friend shrugged as she sorted through her stacks of highlighters. “More of a pain in the ass if someone who doesn’t know your face like I do messed you up. And anyway, you know the real reason I agreed to this. Come on, spill the beans.”

“I thought Anna was  _ kidding _ about bribing you with that,” Kristoff said, raising his eyebrows. “I mean, we didn’t even tell Sven yet.”

“She was  _ not _ kidding, but I think you’ll see my work is worth the price. C’mon, Anna, turn around and show the husband how gorgeous you look.”

She did so, and his eyes went wide. “Oh, shit.”

“Good  _ oh shit _ ?” Anna asked nervously.

Honey snorted. “Do you really have to ask that when it’s  _ me _ doing this? Turn back and let me do your lipstick.”

Anna held still as Honey carefully daubed the scarlet shade they’d settled on together onto her lips. “So, since Anna’s occupied at the moment...what’d you guys pick?”

“Well, we were trying to find something to watch one night, and we both have the same favorite kids’ movie, and it just happened to be on, so we--”

“I didn’t ask for the story, Bjorgman. What are you naming my nephew?”

He grinned. “Milo.”

\---

God, Anna had always been gorgeous, but the color of her gown made her hair gleam even more than usual, and Honey had done just enough makeup to bring out her eyes without hiding the way she was glowing these days-- shit, he’d thought that was just something books said, but--

There was a tug at his sleeve. “Kristoff? Did you hear me?”

He blinked, startled. “What?”

Anna smirked, well aware of what had been distracting him. “Hans just got here. Casey says two more minutes, then we’re up. She says that’s the perfect amount of time to make sure we completely upstage him.

He whistled. “Damn. Do you think Lena would have ever come up with something like that?”

“Absofuckinglutely not.” She grinned and set a hand on the side of her belly. “I think Milo’s excited, too.”

Kristoff laughed and set his hand next to hers; sure enough, there came a brief volley of kicks against the palm of his hand. “As long as you stay in there for a little while longer, buddy, kick all you want.”

“Easy for  _ you _ to say,” Anna muttered. “Oh-- she just texted again. Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” he said as she signalled the chauffeur to open her door. 

Kristoff had to admit he was a little bit awestruck at just how gracefully she managed to emerge from the limo; he nearly tripped over his own feet, and he wasn’t even thirty-seven weeks pregnant.

He was by her side immediately, setting a hand on the small of her back, and not a moment too soon; it was as if their arrival was some kind of signal for the hundreds of photographers and reporters and celebrities and fans to all turn at once, Hans Westergaard and all his bullshit entirely forgotten.

“By the way,” Anna whispered as they began to walk towards the crowd, “if you hold my hand, Casey says to make sure it’s the right one.”

“What? Why?”

“So people can still see my rings in the pictures,” she said, putting on her best movie star smile as the first reporter reached them.

The next hour or so passed in a blur; they stayed well away from the crowd of fans at the doctor’s advice-- “never know how handsy they’ll get, you know”-- but it still felt a bit like getting swarmed with what felt like every reporter in LA dying to find out more about the sudden wedding and the impending arrival and whether or not Anna thought she’d get an Oscar nod for her part.

She answered every question with grace and charm, and Kristoff did his best to make sure his smile didn’t turn into a grimace, even when a cameraman stepped on the hem of Anna’s skirt.

The reporters left him alone for the most part, until one of them turned suddenly to him and asked, “So, Kristoff, how does it feel to be the internet’s boyfriend?”

“The...what?”

The reporter grinned and held up his phone, showing him a series of memes. He squinted, trying to make sense of it all as Anna held back a laugh. “You’re built like a brick shithouse and you hold puppies for a living. What’s not to love?”

“Um,” he stammered, looking to Anna for guidance.

“What my husband means to say,” she said, her eyes sparkling with mischief, “is that he’s flattered. And  _ I _ for one am very grateful I managed to snatch him up before he became such a big star.”

They said their goodbyes quickly after that, and as they continued moving down the red carpet, Kristoff leaned down and muttered, “When were you going to tell me I was the internet’s boyfriend, huh?”

“When you figured out what Instagram was so you could find all the stan accounts for yourself.”

“The...what?”

She giggled and squeezed his hand. “Just smile and wave, honey. And think about the Taco Bell we’re getting after this.”


	26. happy birthday

**november 1st**

On the way home from the movie premiere, Anna was strangely quiet, her head against Kristoff’s shoulder and both hands on her stomach. It wasn’t until they were at home once more and he was helping her out of her gown that she said softly, “I don’t want to have the baby here.”

His hands stilled on the laces. “What do you mean _here_?”

“In LA.”

“But this is where your doctor is,” he said, frowning as she stepped out of the dress.

“Yeah. But I...I don’t know. Maybe this is crazy, but-- well, he mentioned a while back that in case we were ever up visiting your parents and something went wrong, that he used to practice up there, and he knows someone, and…”

Kristoff moved to stand in front of her, cupping her face in his hands as she looked up at him with worried eyes. “Why don’t you want to have the baby here?”

“Just...they’re all going to be there. All the photographers and reporters trying to be the first to get pictures, and I just...I don’t want that to be part of it. I want it to be just us. Do you think...do you think maybe we can figure it out?”

He kissed her forehead. “I’ll call my mom tonight, see if we can stay up there with them.”

“But you have clinicals--”

“Just a couple more days, then my exams aren’t til the first week of December. And I still have days off allowed, so after the fourth, we’re good to go.”

She heaved out a sigh of relief. “I’ll call the doctor up there first thing in the morning. Are you sure your parents won’t mind?”

“Are you kidding me? They’re gonna be over the moon. Ellie, too.”

“And your brothers?”

“Nate’s already bought him and Liam both ‘world’s best uncle’ t-shirts. And Lilly, honestly, is gonna be _pissed_ that she won’t be home til after he’s born. She’s already talking about just skipping her last week of classes to come home.”

Anna broke into a wide smile. “So...we’re doing this? I mean, assuming Milo doesn’t decide to make an appearance in the next three days?”

“Don’t jinx it,” he teased, leaning down to kiss her.

* * *

**november 8th**

Anna had been having a hard time sleeping the last month or so, but the past week had been nearly unbearable. Tonight she’d given up on it altogether and had rolled out of bed a little after midnight. Kristoff, who’d practically been sleeping with one eye open the entire time she’d been pregnant, had sat up immediately, but she’d kissed his cheek and said, “Go back to sleep, honey. You’ll be up all night with me soon enough.”

Now she found herself sitting-- well, leaning, really-- on his parents’ sofa watching _Friends_ reruns and steadily making her way through a pint of pistachio ice cream. A creak came on the stairs, and she winced; preparing to make her apologies for waking up whoever it was. Before she had even turned around, though, Kristoff’s father said, “Only me, kiddo. And I’m up and down all night, anyway.”

After a minute, he joined her on the sofa with his own pint of ice cream. “What’s keeping you up, then?” he asked.

“Aches and pains and a little monster determined to turn my ribs into dust.”

He chuckled at that. “How you feeling besides that?”

She shrugged, not meeting his eyes. “Just...tired, I guess.”

“Understandable.”

The cramp in her lower belly worsened again, and she winced, shifting in a fruitless attempt to get more comfortable. Cliff noticed her movement and wordlessly handed her a throw pillow. “Thanks,” she sighed, setting it behind her back. 

For a while, they watched the show in companionable silence, occasional faint bursts of laughter escaping them. When it switched to an infomercial, though, Cliff cleared his throat and looked at her. “You have to excuse me, Anna, for being so quiet. You know I’m not really one for words.”

She winked at him. “It’s alright. Your son takes after you.”

He smiled and reached over to pat her hand. “I think he turned out pretty okay, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” she said softly. “He really did. I hope Milo does, too.”

Cliff nodded slowly. “Are you nervous?”

She’d been doing her best to hide it, but when he looked at her like that with his voice so gentle and his eyes so soft-- “Yes,” she admitted. “About-- about not just, you know, the labor part, but...what comes after. I guess I just...don’t know how to be a mom.”

He gave her another long, thoughtful nod. “Can I tell you a secret?”

She raised an eyebrow, inviting him to go on.

“I still don’t know how to be a dad. And I sure as hell don’t know how to be a granddad. But that’s the thing, kiddo-- nobody really knows. You just do your best to love ‘em and get them on the right path, and then…” He shrugged. “I guess the rest kinda follows.”

Anna felt her eyes begin to sting with tears, and without her having to say anything, Cliff moved to sit closer to her, pulling her into a hug. “And I want you to know, sweetheart,” he said softly, patting her shoulder, “that I think your mom and dad would be just as excited-- just as _proud_ \-- as I am.”

They held onto each other for a little while as Anna sniffled into his shoulder, but then another cramp started up, and she pulled back with a hiss. Cliff raised his eyebrows. “How long have you been hurting like that?”

“Oh, since I guess around lunch? But it’s fine, really, I pretty much never stop being achey at this point.”

“I’ve been down here with you for nearly forty-five minutes now, and even without my glasses I can tell it’s been hurting you more and more as time goes on.”

Anna frowned. “Well, that’s how this whole thing kinda works, isn’t-- _ow_ , Jesus _fucking_ \-- sorry, Cliff.”

He squeezed her hand until the moment passed. “I think,” he said, his eyes warm, “you better go wake your husband up.”

* * *

**november 9th**

“I got here as fast as I could!” Sven panted as he burst into the room. “Tell me I didn’t-- oh, _shit_!”

“You’re really not supposed to use potty language like that around kids, you know,” Anna said, her eyes bright as she looked up from the bundle in her arms to smile at him. 

Sven stood frozen on the doorstep for a moment longer until Kristoff chuckled and said, “You wanna meet him?”

That was all it took for Sven to spring into action, and a moment later he was leaning over the side of the bed, getting as close as he could to the sleeping infant in Anna’s arms. “Shi-- _shoot_ , man,” he breathed. “You got lucky.”

“I know I--”

“He got Anna’s nose.”

Anna burst into laughter. “Kristoff’s nose is just fine.”

“That’s the hormones talking. Can I hold him?” he asked eagerly.

When Elsa returned from the cafeteria a few moments later carrying a tray of coffees, for a moment they glared at each other, eyes narrowing, in a silent debate about whose turn it was to hold the baby, but then he squirmed in Sven’s arms and began to wail.

Sven handed him back to Anna immediately, who rolled her eyes. “He’s just hungry,” she teased. “What happened to you being the most competent godfather of all time, huh?”

“Part of being a good godfather is knowing when it’s time to pass him back,” he said magnanimously as Anna began to feed the baby. “Like right now, because I can’t do that.”

She laughed. “Okay, okay, point taken.”

  
  


\---

Later, when it was just the three of them again, Kristoff moved to sit beside his wife on the bed. Anna snuggled happily against his side and carefully set the baby on his lap.

“Hey, Milo,” Kristoff whispered, reaching down to trace a finger over his son’s tiny hand. “Happy birthday.”

Milo Clifford Bjorgman-- that's what they'd decided on; his father had cried when they told him as he held his grandson for the first time.

Anna smiled and leaned up to kiss his cheek. “We did a pretty good job, huh?”

“You’re the one who did the hard part. Even if you didn’t know that it was going on until-- what, one A.M.?”

She giggled. “If it wasn’t for your dad, I might have just had him on the kitchen floor.”

“Thank god he found you then,” Kristoff said drily. 

“It kinda worked out, though. That meant I was only worried about you passing out for a couple of hours.”

He was distracted from replying as Milo blinked sleepily and peered curiously up at him. “Hey, buddy,” Kristoff whispered. “How’s it going?”

Anna leaned her head against his shoulder. “Do you think he likes us?”

“Judging by how much he’s already eaten today, he _definitely_ likes you.”

She giggled. “He sleeps better when you’re the one holding him, though.”

His lips tugged upwards into a smile. “Do you think so?”

“Oh, definitely. He gets that from his mama.”

Kristoff turned and kissed the top of her head. “Have I ever told you how much I love you?”

“Yeah. But it bears repeating, I think.”

“I love you,” he whispered into her hair. “I love you two more than anything in the world.”

She smiled and turned to kiss him. “Love you back.”


	27. epilogue

“You sure you two are going to be okay?” Anna asked as she finished putting in her second earring.

Kristoff leaned down and kissed her cheek. “It’s just an ear infection, baby. I can take care of him.”

She frowned. “Yeah, but you’re still running a fever, and--”

“That’s what I’m here for,” Bulda said cheerfully as she bustled in, Milo in her arms. “Ellie, baby, why don’t you let Anna do that lipstick for you?”

“See?” Kristoff said as Anna turned to help his sister finish putting on her makeup. “I’m more worried about you two and the trouble you’re going to get into.”

“Us? Trouble?” Ellie said, rolling her eyes. “ _ Please _ .”

“You’re still in trouble for skipping class, by the way,” Bulda said sternly. “And very much re-grounded as soon as tonight is over.”

“ _ Mom! _ ”

As the two of them began to argue, Kristoff took the opportunity to take Milo from his mother’s arms and walk into the kitchen with Anna, moving carefully to avoid stepping on the train of her long, golden gown. “You nervous?” he asked, passing her the baby.

Anna shrugged as she cradled Milo carefully against her chest. “Nah. I know I’m not going to win anything.”

“I mean, between three nominations...odds are good, right?”

“Nah. Musicals never really win the big awards. And considering one Disney movie got  _ two _ songs nominated in that category, I don’t know why I even bothered working on an acceptance speech.”

“Well, in  _ my _ opinion,  _ Anastasia _ was the best movie of the year,” he replied with a wink. “Definitely had the hottest lead actress.”

“Get down here and kiss me before I put my lipstick on.”

He did so with a smile.

* * *

He’d grumbled all day about his mother coming by to help him out tonight-- “He’s my son, Ma, I can take care of him on my own”, to which she’d replied, “I know you can, but I just want every opportunity to love on my grandbaby, and I’ll be bringing your sister, anyway”, and Anna had interjected, “And he’s  _ still _ running fever, Bulda, and I caught him trying to mow the lawn, anyway.”

But he had to admit he was grateful for it now as he sat nervously on the edge of the sofa, drumming his fingers against his knee. Anna and Ellie had both looked beautiful on the red carpet-- well, really, Ellie had looked nervous as hell, but when Anna had taken her hand in her own she’d relaxed for the most part-- but this time around, there was more for Anna to do than just look pretty.

“Now performing another of the numbers nominated for Best Original Song,” the host said, “here’s Anna Arendelle, singing ‘Under the Stars’ from  _ Anastasia _ !”

There was silence for a moment before the slow swell of violins started to play, and then the lights rose to reveal Anna, looking like a goddess in her gown, as she began to sing, and despite himself Kristoff felt tears spring to his eyes.

“Look at her go,” his mom breathed, and on her lap even Milo seemed enraptured.

Anna finished the song to uproarious applause, and  _ damn,  _ he wished he’d protested harder about her telling him in no uncertain terms that he wasn’t going to the Oscars with a fever, because right now what he wanted more than anything was to run onstage and scream, “That’s my wife!”

Fifteen minutes later, when all five of the nominees for ‘Best Song’ were announced, his mother reached over and squeezed his hand as the camera landed on Anna and Ellie in the audience. They waited with bated breath as the announcer said, “And the Oscar goes to…’A Garden Full of Butterflies’ from  _ To Those Who Wait! _ ”

Both of them sat back with a sigh. “It’s alright,” Kristoff said, “there’s still the other two, right? And those are a bigger deal.”

Milo gurgled in agreement.

If he was being honest, Kristoff didn’t really give a shit about the rest of the ceremony-- he’d seen some of the movies with Anna, but in his opinion, most of the shit nominated for these awards was just depressing as hell-- and so he distracted himself from the waiting by tidying up around the house, straightening the rows of toys Milo’s aunts and uncles had spoiled him with and folding the blanket Anna had given him for their first Christmas together and rearranging the pictures on the fridge so that the one of the two of them on New Year’s was right next to the picture of the day they’d brought Milo home.

“Kris!” his mother squawked as he stood back to admire his handiwork. “They’re doing Best Actress!”  
He hurried back into the living room just as the announcer for this award-- Hans, to his amusement, who had been nominated for nothing on his own merit-- said, “And the Oscar goes to...Anna Arendelle!”  
The two of them erupted into whoops of joy, Milo joining in with a screech of his own. “That’s right, buddy,” Kristoff cheered as he swept his son into his arms, holding him high for a moment to make him squeal with delight before cradling him against his chest. “Mama did it!”

Anna’s eyes were shining even brighter than her gown as she took to the stage and accepted the statuette. “Wow, I--  _ wow _ ,” she said, and the audience laughed fondly. “I don’t know what to say, I mean-- I wrote the speech and everything, but I didn’t actually study it because I never in a million years dreamed this would happen. I, um-- well, let me start of by saying thank you to everyone who worked on  _ Anastasia _ with me, especially our wonderful director Destin Mattias. And thank you to my family as well-- my sister Elsa, especially, thank you for supporting me since we were kids.”

She grinned and looked right into the camera. “But most of all, thank you to my husband, Kristoff, who couldn’t be here right now because he’s taking care of our son. I love you more than anything, honey. Thank you for going on this crazy, incredible journey. I wouldn’t be here without you. Here’s to our happy ending.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you guys for reading along!! sorry it took me so long to wrap this one up, but i hope the ending was decent enough to satisfy you :) i really appreciate all the kind comments you guys have left along the way. i promise to do more in this verse again :)


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